Mexico
by 24writer
Summary: Story of Jack Bauer's time in Mexico. Towards the end of his stay, Ramon tests Jack before he brings him fully into the cartel. h/c, angst, violence, adult language, implied sexual situations
1. Chapter 1 and 2

LOS RIOS, Mexico, Friday afternoon, real time

"What's wrong, Tony?" Lopez asked, the concern heavy in her voice as she watched him peer tentatively out the dirty hotel window. The hot sun this time of day made everything and everyone lethargic and drowsy.

_Where to begin?_ he thought to himself, not answering for the moment. The disturbing unease he'd felt from the moment they'd arrived dogged him. He didn't know how Jack had tolerated this atmosphere for nearly six months now. The poverty and squalidness of the small, isolated Mexican town were bad enough. But he'd seen all that before. It was the oppressive, pervasive tension that weighed on him.

Everyone he met was suspicious and tentative…as if they were under constant scrutiny and their daily existence teetered on the edge of a dangerous precipice. The dark umbrella of Salazar's control smothered these towns that orbited the outskirts of his extensive ranch. He couldn't help but wonder that if it was this bad ten kilometers from the ranch…how bad was it for Jack at the epicenter?

He and Agent Lopez had been here three days now, and he was beginning to understand the disturbing changes in Jack he'd sensed over the past few months. He'd worked with Jack regularly since he'd returned to CTU. As time had put some distance between him and Teri's death and Kim had matured into a responsible young woman, Jack had relaxed back into a normal personal and professional relationship with Tony. In fact, he was a good friend.

And now he was very worried about his friend. Regular communications had degraded into sporadic updates the last two months and now he hadn't been heard from for over two weeks. Intel reports from operatives in other cartels reported suspicious build up within the Salazar operations. Something big was going down soon.

"I don't know Maria," he said, dropping the dingy sheer and flopping back on the bed. "Two days and we aren't any closer to finding out Jack's status. Every person we talk to could sign his death warrant if they turned out to be on Salazar's payroll. _If he isn't dead already_ he kept to himself. "And Division is breathing down my neck to send in a strike team and take the ranch by force if we don't make progress soon."

"You spoke to them today?" she asked, settling her self at the other end of the bed and fiddling with her hair.

"Yeah," he said looking at her. Maria Lopez was one of the most conservatively dressed agents at CTU. But now she looked more like a Tijuana hooker. Of course he didn't look much better—unshaven, his upper bondings removed by his dentist so that he was missing most of his two front teeth, and he hadn't bathed in three days. The second hand clothing he wore was permanently encased in a layer of dust.

Their cover as a low life couple on the lam had worked so far. But Tony felt time running out.

Division had been pushing to end Jack's mission for weeks now, even before he went silent. Jack's temper had been on an extremely short fuse. Contact, when it did come, was short and curt. If challenged or questioned he often lashed out with anger and profanity. He refused to consider extraction saying he was close to a breakthrough, but would never give the specifics. And then he disappeared.

"Chase said Chapelle is chomping at the bit to end this. Ryan knows if we go storming in there we may not take anyone alive…including Jack. Chase thinks he can hold him off for a couple of more days, but that's it," Tony continued as he rose back up towards the window and peaked out again. "But it doesn't really matter. I don't think we have much more time than that anyway."

"So we need to do it then?" Maria asked to his turned head.

"Yeah. We'll watch them tonight and pick out a couple of targets, try to get one alone and take him without being seen."

"Not easy," Lopez worried.

"No, not easy," Tony agreed. "Salazar's men are more highly trained and smarter than your typical local mercenary. Finding one who puts himself in a position to be abducted, knows the information we want, and is willing or can be forced to share is asking a lot." He reminded himself the 'highly trained' part was probably due to Jack's influence.

"Not to mention one who may not be missed right away when he doesn't show back up at the ranch," she added to the list of difficulties.

"Knowing Jack he's got them running like a military outfit. Anyone may be missed the moment they aren't where they are supposed to be," he fretted, remembering how tightly Jack had run CTU as director.

Jack's job had been to find out what Salazar was doing with his terrorist friends, not improve Salazar's military capabilities. But from the little he'd gathered from the locals, in the last few months the Salazar regime had become much more formidable. He prayed he was wrong that Jack's presence had something to do with it.

"Then we have to coordinate with CTU to move in as soon as we have the intel on the ranch and Jack before Ramon is suspicious," Lopez surmised.

"As far as I can tell from what Jack's told me, the son of a bitch is always suspicious. There in lies the problem." _And the reason Jack's life was at risk from the moment he made contact with the cartel_. "Come on," Tony said, resigning himself to the towering odds against them, "let's review the possibilities."

From his pocket he took out the small notebook he'd been updating each night Salazar's men came into town to drink and carouse. He needed one of these men to unlock the key to the Salazar compound for CTU and to tell him if Jack was even still alive to save.

At that moment, the subject of his concern was still very much alive, but very close to wishing he wasn't. _Fucking Ramon and his fucking games_, Jack thought as he flushed down the last of his stomach's contents and went to the sink. I look like shit he thought as his reflection glared back at him from the mirror.

Three days of withdrawal and a nearly constant barrage of physical and mental abuse will do that to you. He had lost track of how long it had been. At least most of the swelling was gone, even if the bruises at various stages of healing still left a rainbow of colors on his skin. He brushed his teeth to rid himself of the taste of bile and tentatively swallowed a little water thinking it might stay down this time.

"Well, well Jack, up and about I see," Ramon crowed from right outside his bathroom door when he opened it, standing so close his after shave made Jack's stomach heave.

Jack didn't want to admit that it was the closeness itself that made him nauseous.

TWO WEEKS EARLIER

"Ramon, no, don't," Jack warned as Ramon brought the radio to his mouth to issue the order. His hand flew to Ramon's wrist without thinking. He didn't want the men to die…and they would if he let Ramon change the plan.

He immediately knew he'd pay for what he'd just done. Telling Ramon he was wrong was one thing, but doing it in front of the men and having the audacity to physically stop him stepped way over the line. Never invade Ramon's space unless invited or expect to pay.

Jack withdrew his hand quickly. "I'm sorry Ramon," he blurted, trying to find a way to lay blame on himself for Ramon's ignorance. Then maybe at least Ramon would feel less embarrassed. "Oscar brought me some new intelligence on the security set up. I didn't tell you because the way we had originally designed the plan, it made no difference."

Tomas looked sympathetically at Jack from behind Ramon's back. He knew exactly what Jack was doing. This raid had been planned down to the last detail. But Ramon, over confident and arrogant, had changed it at the last minute so Benitez, in his last moments of life, would know exactly who had defeated him.

Except Ramon had forgotten about were Jack had told him the majority of men and weapons were stationed and how which angle they attacked from was critical. Making it to Benitez's house before it was blown would put most of their men directly in the line of fire of Benitez's security force.

Ramon was an intelligent man. But his past history in the way of military strategy was to use brutal frontal assaults and, as a result, he had lost many men. He hadn't cared as his recruits had been poverty stricken locals with no training—basically cannon fodder. Jack had spent six months training the men…and more subtly Ramon…in more effective methods. Their mortality rate had dramatically decreased almost as much as their efficiency had increased.

He wasn't proud that he'd increased the killing efficiency of one of the most dangerous cartels in Central America. But doing so had brought him the respect from Ramon that he'd needed. And it had brought it quickly. It would be hard to watch these men he'd worked with all die today, especially since Ramon had been hinting of something big coming soon. If they lost all their experienced fighters, whatever it was might be delayed. And he'd be trapped in this hell that much longer.

"Jack," Ramon seethed but at least did not launch the fatal attack. To his credit, Ramon turned his attention to the task at hand. He would deal with Jack's indiscretion and omission later. "Rearrange the men to your liking," he said handing him the comm unit with fire in his eyes. "Come Tomas, we will return to base camp and wait for 'Generale' Jack to bring us our spoils."

Tomas lowered his head so as not to meet Ramon's gaze and draw any of his wrath on him self. There was a reason Tomas had lasted so long under Ramon's command.

Ramon stormed off like a petulant child unable to play the game his way. Jack swallowed hard and broke the tense silence that had descended on the small group of men running the raid. "Resume original strike positions," he ordered into the mouth piece. "Unit leaders, report status."

One hour later, without loss of a single man, the compound was theirs. Jack looked at the carnage of bodies and the storehouse of riches he'd just secured for the Salazar cartel. For the millionth time tried to reassure him self that what he was doing would be worth it in the end.

LOS RIOS, Mexico, Friday Night, real time

From the table in the far corner, Tony peered around Maria's head and watched the drunken revelry. Maria fidgeted on his lap and once more he hoped Michelle never found out the details of this mission. No one paid attention to the drunken whore on her boyfriend's lap. And her closeness allowed them to whisper to each other without raising an eyebrow of suspicion. But Michelle would be unlikely to accept where he had put his hands as part of the act.

Five of Salazar's men had been here for several hours. Of them, three were on his list as possible candidates for interrogation. A fourth appeared to be an ex-military type that would be too risky to deal with. And the fifth was a young man in his late teens or early twenties they'd never seen before.

"It's getting late Tony," Maria whispered into his ear after planting a couple of staged kisses on his face. "We need to choose and make our move."

"Yeah," Tony whispered back, but turned her on his lap to look at what was developing behind her. "But I think we've got trouble."

Maria turned to see one of the older men, bottle in hand, swaying unsteadily inches away.

"Hey buddy," he said in the local Spanish dialect, "you seem to be the only lucky one in here." He gestured at Maria and then turned to his four mates who were watching with interest. "How about sharing," he said as he made a lewd gesture with his hand on his crotch. It wasn't a question.

_Oh, fuck. _ He felt Maria's hand tighten on the back of his neck. How the hell was he going to play this without blowing his cover, getting Maria raped, or getting the crap beat out of him?

"She's nice," the guy continued, reaching out to rub his hand down Maria's face.

To her credit, Maria smiled up at him.

Tony assumed the least threatening posture and tone he could manage. "I'm honored," he hiccupped drunkenly, "but unfortunately, she's not available. We're getting married," he added trying to appeal to any level of sentimentality the guy might have.

The interloper's eyes surveyed Maria and he laughed loud and hard. Maria's cover may be just too convincing. "Maybe you think that tonight, but you'll reconsider in the morning when your head is clearer and your wallet lighter." He turned to his friends who joined him in the joke…all except for the boy who had turned away back towards the bar.

Suddenly Maria's hand was in his. "Ah, senorita," he crooned gently. "I am not asking for myself, but for my handsome son over there."

All eyes went to the boy--who looked like he wanted to disappear into his drink.

"Surely you would not turn down a handsome sum to show him your tricks?" he continued running his eyes down Maria's long exposed legs.

Tony shoved Maria off his lap and stood. He towered over the small, older man who was not the least bit cowed by Tony's scowl.

"Senior," the man said stepping closer to Tony, shoving Maria slightly out of the way, "you would deny one of Senior Salazar's most promising men the gift of your woman?"

With the mention of Salazar, the boys head whipped around towards his father. There was fire in his eyes…anger…but Tony wasn't sure who it was directed towards. His father had played the trump card that every citizen in this town knew to fear and every visitor learned to quickly respect.

Tony glanced at Maria who was assessing the boy as any good whore would. He admired her acting talent. She was good. In the moment the father took to glance back at his son, Maria signaled her assent to Tony. The boy would have to do. Hopefully he'd been with the Salazars long enough to know something. He was young enough to hope that he would intimidate easily.

Looking appropriately chastised and afraid, Tony backed away. "I am sorry, senior," he apologized. "I am happy to oblige your son." He made a show of handing Maria the key to their room. The boy stood. He was handsome and well built, and relatively well dressed compared to most of the locals his age. Tony saw his reluctance but knew he was bound to do what his father had ordered.

Maria sidled up to him and ran her hands up and down his chest before taking his hand and leading him out the door towards their hotel. All eyes followed their exit. True to his word, the father threw several hundred dollars worth of pesos onto the table next to Tony and smiled at his easy victory and his ability to provide an ample reward. Tony picked up the money and smiled greedily back. Picking up his drink, he toasted the Salazar man and downed it, needing it, worrying about Maria on her own with the boy.

THE SALAZAR RANCH, TWO WEEKS EARLIER

The celebration of their victory was in full swing by the time Jack forced himself to leave his room and join in. Most of the guys were already drunk and didn't notice how late he was. Except, of course, for Ramon.

Ramon stood laughing heartily with a group of the older hands, but his eyes followed Jack.

"Wait, wait, wait," Ramon announced loudly to the room. "Everyone. Let us celebrate our illustrious military leader. He secured us millions of dollars worth of Senior Benitez's heroin today and every single man lived to celebrate here tonight." Ramon raised his glass. "To Jack," he cried before downing the glass and pulling the whore next to him more tightly to his side.

Jack faked a smile and tried to read Ramon's sincerity. He didn't relax. Ramon was as good of an actor as he was a business man. Jack would still pay for what he'd done today. But given this performance, it appeared his punishment would be in private.

Jack grabbed a nearby bottle of tequila, raised it back to Ramon, and then took a long drink. Days like this made him wish he hadn't given up the heroin. The alcohol helped, but it didn't deaden the dread and self loathing like the drug did.

"He's in a good mood," said a feminine voice behind him.

As Ramon busied himself with the woman at his side, Jack turned to Claudia.

"He made a lot of money today," Jack said watching her clear empty glasses from the table, daring to get close enough to smell the intoxicating scent of her hair. He picked up several empty bottles as an excuse to follow her into the kitchen.

"Still," she continued once they were alone by the sink, "he is too happy. I know him. When he is giddy like this…" she paused and peered back out into the crowded room making sure they weren't being heard, "I don't know. He's up to something."

Jack was using every ounce of self discipline not to run his hand up her chest and around her breasts as she turned to the sink to rinse out the glasses. He didn't want to think about Ramon for at least a few minutes. He wanted Claudia.

"Like what?" Jack asked, not really caring, but trying to distract himself from the urge to push his growing erection against her backside.

Claudia dried her hands on a towel and looked Ramon's direction once more. "I don't know," she repeated, "but…usually it's personal. He likes his money, but he gets off more on his power trips. And usually that means someone is the victim…someone gets hurt. And the prospect of it makes him happy." She walked away from the sink and Jack and found an open bottle of wine. "I wonder who pissed him off today," she said distractedly.

Jack felt the blood leaving his face.

Pouring, without looking at him, she whispered, "Can I come to you tonight?"

He didn't answer. Of course she couldn't. Hector was home-although they'd risked that before, especially after these parties when everyone was drunk or wasted. But Ramon might be out looking for him. Finding him in bed with his brother's woman would not help his cause.

Claudia turned and saw him. "Jack," she said instantly knowing. Jack was expert at hiding his emotions. Rarely though, he would let her in and she could see the man under the iron exterior. When she did, what she saw always puzzled her—that this man could do what he did for that bastard Ramon. Just now, though, she saw a rare glimpse of worry. "…what happened?"

"Nothing," he comforted. "I think he's just happy he's that much richer. Everything went perfectly today." He took another big gulp of the bottle he'd carried in with him. "I just don't think we should risk it tonight, Claudia, that's all."

Claudia looked around again before taking his hand. "Jack, please, be careful." He was her only link to sanity in this place. She couldn't afford to lose him.

-2---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
LOS RIOS, Mexico LATER FRIDAY NIGHT, real time

Cautiously, gun drawn, Tony cracked open the door to their room. Yes, Maria Lopez was good. He couldn't help but smile when he saw the boy in his underwear bound and gagged on the bed. Maria sat in a rickety chair next to him smoking a cigarette, still looking the part perfectly. She smiled at the boy then back at Tony.

Wordless, he jerked his head towards the bathroom. As she rose to join him, Tony took stock of the boy. Instead of the fear he expected, the boy leveled his gaze threateningly at the older man. Tony was impressed with his courage but dismayed at what it might mean for their chances of learning anything from him.

"Well?" he asked when they had sequestered themselves in the dingy little water closet.

She smirked. "He didn't want anything to do with me at first. But he's nineteen. His resolve broke quickly the moment I laid hands on his belt. After that, securing him was easy."

"What does he know?" he asked, feeling slightly sorry for the kid.

"About us or about the Salazars?" she asked, dumping the cigarette in the toilet and flushing.

"Both," Tony said, cracking the door to check on the boy. He'd laid his head back and was staring despondently at the ceiling. He was scared despite the good front he put up. And he wasn't going anywhere. Maria had him tightly bound to the bedposts.

"Nothing about us except we're not who we appear to be. The kid is smart…very smart," she said. "He's been on the ranch for nearly a year. But the way he talks… he even made some off hand Shakespearean reference about his father thinking it would go over my head. He looked pleasantly surprised when I called him on it and started to talk to me. So he's educated. But he clammed up when I hinted about anything pertaining to the ranch. But there's something there…I mean I think he can be useful. Just a hunch."

Tony wondered how far Maria had let the kid go with her to get even that amount of information. But that was her business. Look how far Jack had gone to do his job.

"Alright, let's get going," he ordered opening the door.

The boy's head popped up to look at them as soon as he heard the door creak open. Tony was instantly on him with his knife pressed to the still unbearded skin on his upper neck. He felt a stab of remorse that this kid was so young.

"I'm going to undo the gag," he informed him, "and if you make a single sound…any sound…it will be your last." The boy tried to stare him down, but his fear won out and he nodded reluctantly. "Alright," Tony said, watching Maria move in to remove the old rag as he continued to hold the knife at the boy's throat.

He remained silent and swallowed heavily making the blade bob slightly in place.

"What's your name?" Tony asked simply.

"Oscar Ordonez."

"Okay, Oscar," he continued, feeling the boy out, "how long have you been with the Salazars?"

"A year."

"What do you do for them?"

"Why do you give a fuck?" the boy cursed, his courage buoyed now that Tony had moved the knife away.

The knife instantly reappeared at his throat. "Listen to me Oscar," Tony threatened. "I don't want to kill you, but I will. Your little life means nothing to me. I'm interested in a much bigger fish. But if you help me…I might let you walk away from this…in one piece." Tony felt bad doing it, but he looked down at the prominent bulge under the front of the boy's briefs. Oscar got the message loud and clear.

"I do the same as everyone. Work the ranch."

"So you're a farmer?" Tony smirked at the boy's answer.

"Yeah, I'm a farmer," he confirmed.

Tony dragged the knife gently down the boy's torso and lifted the band of his underwear with the tip. What he was doing was callous and crude, but usually effective. And efficiency and time were of the essence here.

"Oscar," he warned, "I don't have time to play games with you. You're a little old for games, aren't you?" The knife disappeared into his briefs. Oscar stiffened and held his breath.

"Oscar," Maria said a little more softly than Tony would have preferred, "tell my friend what he wants to know. I think it's in your best interest."

The boy's eyes flicked nervously over to her. She smiled comfortingly at him but she was still not clear the good cop/bad cop game was the way to go. Tony seemed to be doing fine with only the 'bad side' in gear.

Oscar remained silent and studied his captors. His picked up his head and looked at where the knife disappeared into his shorts. He didn't want to be a coward. On the other hand, he had no desire to loose his balls over Ramon Salazar. He let his head flop back and closed his eyes.

"Alright," Oscar acquiesced. "What do you want to know?"

"Just answer the question I've already asked."

"I'm a standard hand. Meaning I spend my days threatening the locals to pay their tithes to Ramon. Other than that, I train with the other men in weapons and combat. Once in a while I work with Tomas in the office doing some of the books. I'm good with math."

"Tomas?" Maria asked.

"He's Ramon's…what's the mafia word…consigliore," Oscar said the Italian word effortlessly. "He was his right hand man."

"Was?" she followed.

"Until Jack came along."

Tony and Maria flicked their eyes at each other. Finally they might be getting somewhere.

"Who's Jack?" Maria asked, trying to maintain the same nonchalance she'd had asking about Tomas.

Oscar stayed silent. Tony could see his mind working. He was cooperating, but he hadn't folded. Maybe the father hadn't been exaggerating when he'd boasted his son was one of Salazar's most promising men.

"Look," Oscar began tentatively, feeling his way. He couldn't see anyway this was going to turn out well for him if he let events run their course. "I've already told you enough to get me killed. Honestly, whatever you do is nothing in comparison with what Ramon will do to me if he finds out."

He looked up at Tony to gauge how he was doing. When he saw Tony was listening, he was encouraged. Why not make a play to get off the ranch? He'd been praying for a chance since he'd been taken on. He hated the place and the thought of spending the rest of his life there…well, he might as well take his chances with these two.

"What's your point, Oscar?" Tony asked, irritated, tired of threatening him with the knife.

"Relax, Tony, let him talk," Maria intervened, seeing something Tony did not.

"I'm willing to tell you what you want to know…"

Tony lashed out, believing the boy was just trying to string them along. He put his large hand around Oscar's skinny neck and pushed. "Listen, kid, you are in no position to bargain here…"

"Tony wait," Maria ordered, grabbing his wrist and freeing a startled Oscar.

"For what, Oscar," she asked sternly. "What is it that you want?" She didn't want to give him the idea she'd keep rescuing him. Although, in truth, she liked the kid. He had balls.

Oscar looked pleadingly at Maria. Despite the fact that she'd betrayed him, she seemed the safer of the two. "Can you keep him the fuck off me?" he begged.

"If you cut the crap and get to the point," she bargained.

Oscar desperately wanted to ask to be allowed to sit up. Negotiating from this position, nearly naked, was intimidating. But he knew better than to ask now. He eyed them suspiciously as he regrouped and decided on the truth. It could get him killed. On the other hand, he was probably going to die anyway.

"I'd like to know who you two are, but I'm not going to ask." Tony scowled. Oscar continued quickly. "I don't want to work for Ramon Salazar. I want out. The usual way out is to die or be killed trying."

"Then why the fuck did you join?" Tony asked hostilely, not willing to believe this was going to be this easy. Ramon forced men to do a lot of things against their will, but joining his inside corps was not one of them. It would be dangerous and inefficient.

"It's a long story."

"Make it short."

The boy's eyes became transiently sad. Maria didn't think he was acting. She hoped the story sounded like the truth.

"I was in college…in Mexico City. I didn't know where the money came from…but I didn't care. My mother forced my father to let me stay. He wanted me to come with him to work for the Salazars…for the money. But I wanted to be in school and I resisted. But then she died. And I found out that Ramon Salazar had been the one paying my tuition."

"I was disgusted. Even more so when I found out he'd paid my way through high school as well. Ramon does nothing without expecting a return. He owned me. What use would college be when I was destined to work for the Salazars no matter what? My father wanted me to leave school. So I didn't fight him. I joined him at the ranch like he wanted."

Maria was impressed…a kid from here learning to read was an accomplishment-let alone college.

Tony was more skeptical. "Why would Ramon Salazar pay for your schooling?"

The boy shrugged. "I don't know for sure. Tomas is a very distant cousin. I think he knew what a good student I was. Honestly, in retrospect, I think he told Ramon and they were training me for a role in the cartel. I certainly do more office work now, help Tomas out, unlike any of the other men…especially the other young guys."

Tony looked at Maria to see if she was inclined to believe this. And even if it was true, could they trust what he told them about the ranch? She looked convinced.

"So you want us to get you out?" she finished for Oscar.

Oscar looked away, suddenly unsure of what he was doing. He couldn't trust these two any more than he could trust Ramon. Most likely, they were just from a rival cartel. They'd have no inclination to keep him alive or help him escape. But now it was too late. Fuck it, anything was better than being anywhere near Ramon.

"Yeah," he answered softly. "I figure you two aren't going after Ramon alone. You've got backing from somewhere. I'll work for you or just disappear. Whatever you want. I just want out of here."

_Badly enough that you just put your life in our hands_ Maria thought.

Tony reached forward with the knife. Oscar flinched. But Tony moved past him and cut the ropes binding his arms to the bed. He helped him sit up. Time to throw a little trust the boy's way and see what he did with it.

Oscar was visibly relieved as he sat up rubbing his reddened wrists.

"So who are you?" he asked.

"Not yet," Tony admonished. "We talk first. Who's Jack?"

The boy's hairless chest rose and fell as he released a deep sigh. This was the point of no return.

"An American. Mercenary. Ex military…special forces I think. Showed up about five or six months ago. Ramon seems to trust him…as much as he trusts anyone. It's just that Jack…"

A perplexed look crossed his face. "Jack is what?" Tony urged, relieved that Oscar was using the present tense in reference to Jack. As far as the kid knew, Jack was still alive.

"It's hard to describe Jack. He's…well…he's a tough and he can be a son of a bitch…but he's not mean…not like Ramon. But Ramon loves him. He uses him now even more than Hector."

"Uses him?" Maria asked, "for what?"

"Well, in the beginning, like all the other men. Then Jack took over all the arms training and security. But now…well, Jack does all the dirty jobs. Anything Ramon needs. It's almost…" He stopped. "Nevermind."

Tony didn't want to sound too interested in Jack, but what Oscar was saying was making him very nervous. He needed to hear it all, now.

"This guy is important?" Tony asked, playing dumb. "Because we never heard of him."

"Yeah, he's important."

"Then tell me all you know."

Oscar shrugged his shoulders again and brought his long legs to cross in front of him. Sitting there like that in his undershorts, he looked like a little boy, not a trained cartel soldier.

"There's not much else. He's smart. And I think that bothers Ramon."

"You just said Ramon loves him."

"Yeah, but I think Ramon is bothered by him too…sort of threatened. I'm smart, but I can't fight like Jack, the men don't respect me like they do Jack. Ramon has Jack do all these things…like he's testing him…waiting for him to screw up or for Jack to tell him 'no'. That's what I overheard Tomas say one night to one of the other men. And I thought about it…and I think Tomas is right."

"Why would Ramon do that?"

Oscar chuckled. "You obviously don't know much about Ramon Salazar."

"Then teach me," Tony growled, letting Oscar know his insolence would not be tolerated.

"Ramon doesn't need a reason. Ramon does what he wants to who he wants. Like he's playing a game. And he takes what he wants."

With that last sentence Oscar looked down and Tony swore he saw the boy shiver. What the hell was he implying? That he takes 'who' he wants as well? Tony looked at the boy in another light, not as thug in training, but as a very good looking, well spoken young man. Was Ramon interested? Did that explain the risk Oscar was willing to take to escape? He suppressed his own shiver.

"How does Jack act towards Ramon?"

"He respects him…like everyone does. But sometimes Jack pushes Ramon. He gets away with more than anyone else. But then sometimes Ramon looses it."

"How does Jack push Ramon?"

"I don't know…well…like sometimes he'll defend one of the men. Like if he knows the man isn't guilty like Ramon thinks. No one else will do that."

"And Ramon listens?"

"Sometimes."

"And if he doesn't."

Once again Oscar shrugged. "He gets punished."

"Who gets punished?"

"The man…or Jack…or both. Depends."

Said so matter of factly. Tony wanted to know what the hell that meant. But the way the boy said it, Oscar thought it was obvious. Tony doubted that punishment on the Salazar ranch was a time out. More and more he understood the changes in Jack.

Maria saw the worry in Tony's face and knew they were teetering close to exposing their hand. She was beginning to trust Oscar, but not enough to reveal who Jack really was. She changed directions.

"Tell us about the ranch…the layout."

Oscar looked at her strangely. He'd never seen a woman with a role in any cartel. Certainly not like this woman and how she was acting. For the first time, he wondered whether these two were police. But that might be better for him. He wouldn't be jumping from one hell to another. And they were slightly less likely to kill him after he told them what he knew.

"What do you want to know?" he asked, deciding being the best informant he could be would be in his best interest,

THE SALAZAR RANCH, TWO WEEKS EARLIER

On his way out the door, Jack grabbed at one last partially emptied bottle of tequila, dismayed that his mind was not numb despite how much he'd already downed. He walked steadily and slowly towards the annex to the main house where he and Tomas slept. The private room was a privilege Ramon had granted him two months ago saying he needed his best men close by. Jack liked the privacy over the open, crowded quarters of the bunk room. But the disadvantage was that Ramon showed up far too often unannounced.

On the other hand, the semi seclusion of the little house had allowed his relationship with Claudia to carry on. Jack wondered if Tomas suspected anything. And if he did, was it within Tomas's stoic and quiet nature to tell Ramon? He thought not. Tomas survived by being efficient and indispensible to Ramon and keeping his head down. He was as high up in the cartel as he could go. He had nothing to gain by causing controversy…especially one that would bring Hector down on him. Tomas did not respect Hector. He was polite to a fault with the younger Salazar and otherwise maintained his distance.

Obviously, Tomas and Jack had not become close. They were both very private. The separate entrances to their quarters distanced them enough so that they rarely even saw each other enter or leave. Tomas seemed to respect Jack enough to leave him alone. And Jack thought that Tomas appreciated that he had taken over a lot of Tomas's duties…especially the unpleasant ones. And with those duties, much of Ramon's scrutiny had fallen from Tomas to Jack. _Lucky me_, thought Jack drunkenly as he stumbled up the small step to his room.

Jack drank the last drops from the bottle and eyed his bed. He forced himself to undress before allowing his body to flop down face first atop the sheets. As tired and drunk as he was, he wasn't going to sleep. His mind raced. Thank God he didn't have any heroin in here or he'd be using right now. He wished he at least had Claudia.

Or Kate. Claudia was escapism. He cared for her, but their relationship consisted of sporadic nights of clandestine sex. That wasn't a relationship. Claudia was part of this nightmare…the only good part, but in the Salazar world none the less.

Kate had been there to care for him, talk to, make love to. She had saved him. Until he had ruined it. Until the drug had ruined it. He physically cringed as his overactive mind replayed a few scenes from the weeks before he'd left for Mexico. He'd blamed it all on Kate…she didn't understand his work, she wasn't giving him enough space. But now that he was clean, he could see the blame was his-and the drug's. He knew she wasn't going to be there when he returned.

Jack rolled over onto his back. He watched the ceiling fan stir the night air for a long time before the tequila finally won out and shut down his brain. He fell into a restless sleep.

Ramon kicked at the sole of his brother's shoe. "Hector, wake up," he ordered.

Hector started awake in the chair.

"You stayed sober like I told you to, didn't you?" Ramon asked.

"Of course, Ramon," Hector defended. "It's late…I just couldn't stay awake."

"Too many women tonight has worn you out," Ramon teased.

"Well if I couldn't drink Ramon, what else was I to do?" He laughed with his brother.

They walked silently towards Jack's room. Just outside Hector stopped. "Ramon, are you sure about this?" he asked hesitantly, not wanting to provoke his brother.

To his relief, Ramon turned casually and looked up at the moon in the clear sky, considering, not angry. "I think we must, Hector. In less than a month, we will be heading a different direction. For these men to trust us, we need to appear strong. They will be prejudiced that we are not like them…or that we are not even Americans. Jack has worked with men from their country and religion before. Now that he is here, I understand how much I need him."

"Jack has been suspicious that something else is happening. In his subtle way, he's been pushing me to let him in-to help prepare the men. And I will. But before I trust him completely with what we are about to do, I must have his full and unconditional loyalty."

"But, Ramon, why do you think you don't? He's done everything you've asked. And done it well." Hector had no great love for Jack. He was jealous that Ramon counted on Jack so much. And he did not care for the arrogant American personally. But Jack was good at what he did and he'd brought them a lot of money already.

But what Ramon was planning…Hector had seen it before. Their father had done this twice with men he was testing. It could destroy Jack—and that was dangerous this close to launching their plans with the terrorists. And, he hated to admit, that he suspected this was about proving Ramon's power over Jack more than defining his loyalty.

"He embarrassed me today. He questioned my authority in front of the other men. You know I can't tolerate that."

Hector smiled conspiratorially at his brother, as Ramon nonchalantly reached into his pocket for a cigar and lit it. "You set him up, Ramon."

"Really?" Ramon grinned, blowing smoke up into the sky. Ramon relished Jack's anxious behavior at the party tonight. Even the great Jack Briggs could be frightened of what Ramon might do.

"It was dangerous, you know," Hector ventured. "Jack couldn't win. But if he had chosen to let you change the plan, we'd have lost a lot of men. You'd of been able to blame him, of course, but we would have been down manpower for what's ahead."

"A chance I took. I calculated Jack would stop me. But if he hadn't, we could deal with it."

"Besides, Hector, it's just a feeling I have," Ramon continued. "Jack is still an enigma to me. I want to break him down. Then we will find out what he is on the inside—what makes him have the balls to do what he did today. If he is as he appears, he will survive. If not, then we will know and have to move on without him-which is better than being betrayed in the future."

They stood silently as Ramon finished his smoke. "Go get Tomas and the old man," Ramon ordered quietly as he ground his cigar into the loose dust under his foot. "Let's get started." 


	2. Chapter 3 and 4

3-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
HOTEL RIOS, JUST AFTER MIDNIGHT SATURDAY MORNING, real time

It was unbelievable how much information they'd gotten in just a little over an hour. Oscar was a gold mine. They knew the cartel hierarchy and everything they needed about the security set up and defense. Now the question was what to do with it all.

Tony picked up Oscar's clothing and tossed them onto his lap. "Go into the bathroom and get dressed. As soon as you are in there, turn on the shower and the sink. Leave them on until I tell you to come out."

Oscar nodded and followed orders.

Maria and Tony sat down on the bed next to each other so they could speak softly enough not to be heard over the running water.

"We need to decide what to do with him."

"Yeah, not as clear cut as we would have thought," Maria agreed. Their plan had been to kill the informant and then move quickly against the ranch. Oscar's willingness to help opened up myriad other possibilities…if they could trust him. "Do you think his father will be suspicious of how long he's been gone?"

Tony laughed. "When I left the bar, they were all so wasted not one of them noticed. They've had time for quite a few more by now. We can easily plant him back with them…if that's what we are going to do."

"Risky," Maria assessed.

"Damn risky," Tony agreed. Aloud, he weighed the risks. "If he tells Ramon he's suspicious of us, are we any worse off than right now?"

"Well," Maria considered, "he'll probably up security. But right now, Oscar has no idea what we want the information for. And that's if Oscar is willing to tell him. Even if Oscar changes his mind about getting out, the risk of telling Ramon anything of what happened here tonight far out weighs the benefits for him. I think the kid is really scared of him."

Maria paused. "Tony, do you think…"

Tony looked at her. "You got that vibe too, huh?"

Maria nodded solemnly. "Our mission intel didn't indicate that Ramon did that sort of thing. Do you think Jack…"

"Not now, Maria. I can't even think about what Jack has done or has had to face right now. Let's get him out of there, arrest Ramon, and then deal with it."

"Alright." Tony was right, one step at a time. But still, her mind would not leave some of the things the boy had said about Ramon. How Bauer had stuck this out astounded her.

"So we send him back?" he asked.

"Yeah. Better than holding him and having him go missing. That would be riskier…raise more suspicion."

"Agreed. We'll disappear. So even if he rats on us, we'll be gone and they won't have time to figure it out before the raid." Tony concluded. "But there's another issue."

"Do we have him try to get word to Jack of what's coming down?" Maria said.

Tony looked at her surprised that she had come up with the exact same thought as he had at the exact same moment. Maria was a junior level field operative from San Diego shipped in for this undercover mission. She was good. He wondered if she would consider a transfer.

"Right," Tony agreed simply. "It opens up a whole new set of risks, but would also be of tremendous benefit. Jack could protect himself and Ramon. And instead of leading his army against us when he would initially have no idea about who was attacking at the onset, he could sabotage his own security to help us out."

They both considered this quietly.

Tony got up first. "Let's feel Oscar out a little more about Jack. Then we can decide."

Maria nodded.

"Oscar," Tony knocked on the door.

Dressed and cleaned up, Oscar emerged resolved to whatever was about to happen next. He didn't think they were going to kill him, but he couldn't imagine what else they'd do with him.

"A few more questions," Maria told him.

"Alright," Oscar sat down on the chair which Maria had occupied before. He felt his pocket. His knife and wallet were gone.

"This Jack," Tony began, formulating a plan. "Tell me what he looks like."

Oscar looked at him curiously. "Why?"

"Just fucking tell me," Tony cursed.

"Alright," Oscar retreated. "Not a big guy…about my height. Blond, blue eyes. Has a couple of tattoos…here." He pointed to his biceps.

Tony followed up and described Jack's tattoo.

"Yeah, those are them," Oscar said, surprised.

"I thought so," Tony said. "It is him, Maria," he said to her, expecting her to pick up and play along.

"You know Jack?" Oscar asked suspiciously.

"Briggs?" Maria asked.

"Yeah, that's his name. Jack Briggs," Oscar confirmed, confused. "How do you know him?"

"Don't worry how we know him," Tony smiled conspiratorially at Maria, trying to keep the boy off balance. "We just do. We were friends. Let's just say Jack and I have a history together." When Oscar just stared at him, Tony threw him just a little more. "Jack and I are in the same line of business."

"Like mercenaries?" Oscar asked. Oscar was a little nervous that maybe Tony was lying about the friend part. Not many people he knew, especially at the ranch, were good with the truth. Maybe he was out to get Jack for something now that he knew he was here.

He didn't want to see Jack hurt. When he'd told them about Jack he'd hidden how much he liked him. He was different. He was American for starters. Once, when they were at a bar, Jack had actually talked to him about the States and movies and some about sports. And Jack looked out for him and a couple of the other younger guys. He didn't make it obvious, but he knew Jack had his back…and more importantly, so did the guys that liked to cause trouble in the bunk house.

"Yeah, like that Oscar. Just that I haven't seen him for a lot of years. Something you said about him got me thinking. A hunch that turned out to be right."

Tony turned to the window and pretended like he was deep in thought.

When he turned back, he looked at Oscar sincerely. "Listen Oscar," he began. "I can't tell you who we are. But if you could get a message to Jack it would be really worth your while."

"You mean money?"

"Money…and your freedom. But you need to trust us…just like we need to trust you."

"But what do you want…I mean with Jack…and the Salazars?"

"What everyone wants Oscar…money. And you just gave us a way to make us…and you…a lot more than we had planned. If you trust us."

"Like I have a choice. But I don't know that I can get a message to Jack."

"Why not?" Maria asked.

"He's been gone for two weeks now. No one's seen him."

Tony's stomach sank. "Where is he?" he asked, forcing his voice to remain steady.

Oscar shrugged his shoulders again. That gesture was really starting to grate on Tony's nerves. "Tomas told us he's away doing business for Ramon."

Tony immediately knew that wasn't true. Jack would have had an easier time checking in if he was out from under the scrutiny of the ranch.

"But the older guys, they laugh at that."

"Why?"

"Well, for one, everyone knows something big is happening soon. None of us except Tomas know what it is, but it's weird that Jack would just go away for so long right before."

"Maybe he's getting ready for it."

"Maybe," Oscar agreed reluctantly.

"But," he paused.

"But what," Tony prompted.

"Well, the day before he 'left,' he did something that usually would make Ramon very angry. Something that Ramon would usually issue punishment for immediately. But he didn't. Then Jack was gone."

"What did Jack do?"

Oscar explained what had happened the day of the raid. Everyone knew. Gossip spread like wildfire around the ranch, especially when it involved Jack and Ramon.

"So where do you think he is?" not sure how much planning he could base on the guess of a nineteen year old.

The expected shrug happened. "I don't know for sure…but, personally, I think he's on the ranch somewhere. Training, planning…or injured. Maybe Ramon did punish him and hurt or killed him. It's happened before."

"So you think he's dead?" Tony's stomach knotted. He saw Maria flash him a worried look.

"No, I don't. Not really. Jack is too high up to just disappear. Ramon would use his death as an example to the rest of us. You know 'see, this can happen to anyone.'"

Tony suppressed the image of his friend's mutilated body being dragged through some dusty compound as a threat to a bunch of drug runners. He sighed. Damn, this had been going so well.

"Tony?" Maria asked wondering what next.

"Give me a second," he answered, pushing Oscar out of the chair and sitting down with a pen and notepad.

Oscar and Maria waited anxiously. After a few minutes, he handed Oscar the note. He let the boy read it. Might as well. It was plain enough not to be suspicious, but still a little cryptic. As smart as Oscar seemed, Tony didn't picture him working out the code. He just hoped Jack could.

"If you can find him, give it to him. Like I said, you'd profit from the effort, believe me."

"Wait…so you are sending me back in there?" he asked, panicking.

"Did you expect us to put you in our suitcases and smuggle you out tonight?" Tony chided harshly. "We will get you out. Like I said, trust. You've done nothing to bring suspicion on yourself. As far as anybody knows, you were with a hooker. Keep it that way, play it right and when we act, you'll get out cleanly." He knew the boy would bring some danger on himself snooping around to find Jack. He would just have to be clever about it.

"But don't you need to know whether I find Jack or not…whether he gets the note?"

This time Tony shrugged. "It would help. But remember, we had a plan before we knew Jack Briggs was with Ramon. Either way, we will act. We'll just leave ourselves open to adjusting."

"It would help if you would tell me what you are planning." In his wildest imagination Oscar couldn't figure out what these two were up to. He was less convinced of his police theory right now. But he was excited at the prospect of money and escape—and the intrigue was kind of exciting. He knew they were not being totally honest with him, but all he needed to focus on was his small role. And then hope they were being honest enough to get him out alive—or at least not get him killed.

"Maybe it would. But believe me, it's safer for you not to know."

Oscar nodded thoughtfully. "I should get back now if I'm going," he said solemnly.

Tony patted him reassuringly on the shoulder, handed him back his wallet and knife, and led him out the door.

THE SALAZAR RANCH, TWO WEEKS EARLIER

The light of the moon was enough, once his eyes adjusted, for Ramon to watch Jack breath heavily atop his bed. It was even enough to see the strong tan line from working countless hours outside shirtless that encircled his hips above the waistline of his briefs.  
Jack's room was immaculate, as always, except for the empty liquor bottle and tonight's discarded clothing which were strewn on one side of the bed.

Ramon picked them up gingerly a laid the jeans and collared shirt on the chair next to the bed before putting his knee where they had been. When he moved, he moved quickly, grabbing Jack's wrists and pinning them hard near his head. In the seconds it took for Jack to wake up, he'd already lost and been immobilized in his own bed.

"Hello, Jack," Ramon greeted gleefully to Jack's opened but bleary eyes.

Jack tried to buck him before he responded and immediately realized it was futile. Someone had him by the ankles as well. He just couldn't see whom past Ramon's looming figure hovering above him.

"Let the fuck go of me," he ordered, too sleepy and still too drunk to think about what he was saying or to whom he was saying it, simply reacting to being held against his will.

One hand did let go of him and came slamming across his face. "Ahhh," he cried loudly, surprised at the sudden violence raining down on him in his own bed.

"I would think," Ramon seethed, "that you would know better than to give me orders Jack. If you did, you might not be in this predicament right now."

The slap had brought Jack awake enough to remember the raid. The inevitable punishment had begun. He didn't bother to apologize. It wouldn't help. Best now to take what Ramon gave him silently.

Another slap. This time Jack felt the taste of blood in his mouth immediately.

"Nothing to say Jack?" Ramon asked as he hit him a third time.

"I'm sorry Ramon," Jack offered, surprised Ramon wanted the apology. Apologies were usually worthless to Ramon. He simply demanded the mistake never happened in the first place.

Ramon had let him go and now stood by the bed. So this time when the back hand came across his cheek, he had his entire body behind it and the blow dazed Jack momentarily. His mouth was bleeding freely now. What did Ramon want him to say? Fuck it. There was probably nothing he could say or do that would change the course of this beating.

"Talk, Jack," Ramon ordered nonspecifically.

_What the fuck about Ramon? _"I should have told you about the security changes Benitez had made."

This time the blow was to his abdomen. The tequila pooled there immediately threatened to come back up.

"Don't fucking lie to me Jack," Ramon yelled. And then he was over him again. Close. His angry eyes boring into Jack. "There were no changes. You lied to me then and you just lied to me again."

Jack's eyes flicked back and forth as he studied Ramon's face, frantically trying to make sense of what he'd just said before the next blow came. Ramon had known there was no new intelligence. He knew Jack had lied to him about the intel and Ramon had let it pass.

_He'd been set up_. With that knowledge, he immediately knew nothing he did or said right now was going to change the course of what Ramon had planned tonight. Claudia's words came back to him. This was not a normal punishment. Jack had seen what Ramon was capable of under special circumstances. _ Fuck_.

Ramon smiled maliciously down at his captive victim as he saw realization and resignation flash across Jack's features.

"What do you want from me Ramon?" Jack asked quietly.

Ramon's smile widened. He brought his meaty hand down gently to Jack's face and dabbed at the blood trailing from the corner of his mouth. Then he ran it softly over Jack's reddening cheek. Jack's heart pounded in his chest. The feigned gentleness was having the frightening effect Ramon had calculated it would.

Suddenly Ramon's hand was at his throat, ruthlessly pushing down on his trachea. Jack's hands shot up and clawed at Ramon's thick forearm. He tried to wrench away but his legs were still held and Ramon's weight was heavy on his chest as Salazar leaned his face down to within inches of Jack's.

The smile disappeared as Ramon detachedly studied Jack's reddening face, his blue eyes wide and staring in confusion at this assault, his mouth opened and straining for air that would not move into his lungs. Jack felt the light-headed floating of asphyxiation descending and soon his vision was graying.

"I want everything, Jack," Ramon whispered from somewhere very close to his ear. "You know that's what I always want."

The hand disappeared and Jack gulped for air. Ramon and the unseen pair of hands were gone, allowing Jack's body to curl reflexively into a ball as he coughed and gagged his way back to full consciousness. Reluctantly he opened his eyes just as someone flicked on the lights in the room. Ramon, Tomas, Hector, and an old man he'd never seen before stood staring down at him like some animal in a zoo. Tomas and Hector between them held two pairs of hand cuffs and several lengths of rope.

"Flat on your back, spread eagle, Jack," Ramon ordered.

Jack wiped at the blood on his chin and sat up briefly before Hector and Tomas advanced on him. There was no way to fight from this position and no where to run. He locked eyes with Ramon as he moved to comply. They tied his arms first, his forearms and palms up to the ceiling, the rope secured tightly around his wrists before disappearing over the side of the mattress where it was tied to the bed frame. Then they did the same with his ankles. When they were finished, Jack could barely move.

So badly Jack wanted to ask 'why.' This was about more than today. He'd done everything asked of him. And he sensed Ramon did not know the real truth. If Ramon knew he was an agent, this would be brutal and agonizing, and he'd be doing it in front of the entire ranch, without all this preamble.

He was angry with himself that he felt betrayed by Ramon. How stupid was that—angry like a child that Ramon was treating him unfairly? But that's how he felt, and the unfairness of it all and the fear was forming a lump in his throat that he had to fight momentarily to keep from becoming a sob.

He swallowed hard and met Ramon's gaze once more. He couldn't read Ramon's face. If anything, he looked slightly confused as he looked down at Jack's bound form. Jack could only pray that Ramon was reconsidering whatever this was.

Ramon pulled Jack's desk chair up to the side of the bed. The other three men retreated into the shadows. Ramon's fingers ran up and down the length of Jack's forearm, gently tracing the path of the large prominent vein that ran down its center.

"You've stopped using," Ramon stated simply.

Jack said nothing but watched Ramon's index finger play over the fading scars of the track marks. Nothing had made Jack more relieved than watching those marks begin to disappear over the last several weeks.

"Why?" Ramon asked softly.

"Because I found that I could. In the past, when I tried, I couldn't," Jack lied a little. The truth was he quit because he was scared if he didn't soon, he wouldn't. For the first few months he'd had control. There'd been no urgency, the doses had been small. But that had been changing. The stress of living here had been letting him justify more frequent and bigger hits.

On the first morning he'd woken with cramps and tremors from withdrawal, he'd decided the charade for his cover had lasted long enough. It had been surprisingly hard to manage even the slow taper. At least every time he craved it, which was too often, he remembered that first morning and was able to stop himself.

"Why bother, Jack?" Ramon pushed. "The product is free, it makes you feel good. It never affected your work?"

Jack wished Ramon would take his hand off him. The contact was making his skin crawl. "Because I didn't like being controlled by it."

Ramon smiled at this. That's exactly why poor Jack was lying here at his mercy. Because he didn't like being controlled. Ramon decided not to point the irony of this out to him right now.

"And," Jack continued, "I once over heard you say that you could never fully trust a junkie. And I wanted you to trust me." Jack knew this sounded heavy handed, but it was the truth. Ramon had been speaking to one of the other cartel bosses about a deal that had gone bad. Jack had been in the room and Ramon's words, coming from the drug king he is, had hit him like a punch in the gut. Of course, Ramon had been unaware of how what he'd said applied to one of his top men-standing right behind him.

Ramon pulled his hand away. Jack had never been honest and open with him like that about wanting his approval or trust. He didn't know whether to think his plan was working already, or that maybe he didn't need to do this. He stood and walked away. When he turned back, Jack was looking at Hector and Tomas, trying to read them. Just like Jack to always be looking for a way out even when it was clearly hopeless. Ramon almost felt pity for him. But that wasn't enough to stop him.

Jack saw Hector look at him and quickly look away. Tomas would not meet his eyes. That did not bode well. Then Jack found the old man. Small, dark, wizened, he seemed uninterested in the drama unfolding in front of him. As Jack watched, his ancient fingers wandered absently over a large wooden case. Ramon would make his purpose clear soon enough Jack figured. And whatever it was probably wasn't going to be good for him either.

Jack started when he felt Ramon's fingers back at his wrist. He was dismayed when Ramon tapped at the healing vein on his arm. He was terrified when he spied the rubber tourniquet on the bed next to him.

"Ramon?" he questioned as Ramon pulled a vial and empty syringe from his jacket pocket. He knew he hadn't concealed the panic from his voice.

Ramon did not react. Instead, he made a show of filling the syringe, flicking his index finger sharply against the barrel, and then expertly expelling the small bubble of air trapped beneath the needle. Jack held still as Ramon secured the tourniquet around his upper arm, only his eyes nervously flitting between his own arm and Ramon's hands and face.

Ramon pulled a single alcohol wipe from his pocket and neatly ripped it open. Finally Jack could take no more when the cool sensation of the alcohol wafted over the enlarging vein in the crook of his arm.

"Ramon, no, please don't," Jack pleaded, straining fruitlessly for several seconds against the rope at his wrist and Ramon's strong hand steadying his forearm.

Ramon waited patiently for Jack to relax his arm again then continued undeterred, only stopping and looking at him silently when the needle was dimpling the skin over the vein. His eyes were hard and cold. Time stood still for a moment as Jack saw that needle poised there. This would change everything for him. He'd recover from a beating in a couple of weeks…but this…he'd hardly managed quitting the first time.

A single crimson drop of blood appeared as the needle went in. Ramon stopped and stared into Jack's eyes just to cruelly prolong the moment.

"Please. No." Jack whispered plaintively. Ramon depressed the plunger.

Ramon left the needle and tourniquet in place and slowly sat back on the chair he'd pulled to the bed. He watched as Jack's body went limp and his head fell back to the bed from where it had been straining to watch Ramon work. Jack's eyelids fluttered briefly before his eyes wandered aimlessly in a drunken arc through their range of motion.

Just before his eyelids closed, Jack seemed to summon the control to look at Ramon one last time. Ramon savored the look of hopeless confusion there. Jack looked away before they closed. As they did, Ramon saw a single tear slide down from the corner of Jack's right eye, as the heroin took the very last vestige of his control away.

The room was silent. Hector came to stand next to his brother. Seeing Jack like this, the needle dangling from his arm and a small line of blood trailing from the puncture site, reminded Hector of why he had avoided using this one drug-the drug that brought them most of their wealth-all his life.

"Is he okay?" Hector asked. Jack was stone cold out.

Ramon stood. He pulled at the rubber band around Jack's bluish arm. It came off with a snap. "He's fine. I gave him a lot so he is out for this." With that he nodded at the old man. "Senior," he said respectfully, "you can begin."

Finally becoming animated, Senior Viacorta pulled his heavy case to the bed. Ramon brought the chair around to the other side for the small man. "I trust you will do the same fine work that you've always done for our family," Ramon said proudly, pulling up his sleeve to admire his own tattoo—work the old man had done when he was not so old.

"Of course, Senor Salazar," Viacorta said equally proud. "Just as your grandfather's, your father's, and yours-the Lady will be perfect."

4-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
"A few hours later Hector emerged from the main house. He checked to make sure no one else was up to see him walk back towards Jack's room now that the rising sun was had taken away the cover of darkness. Once he reached the protection of the small porch he stopped to sip the fresh coffee steaming from the mug in his hand before he remembered it was for Ramon. As he stood there, the door opened and out shuffled Senior Viacorta.

"Buenos dias, Senior," Hector greeted respectfully as the old man, stooped from several hours of work, shuffled by him.

Buenos Dias," Viacorta returned. "There is coffee?"

"Yes, in the main house. One of the servants is up, she will fix it for you. You know the way?"

He offered a crooked smile as an answer and continued on by.

On his way to the door, Hector caught a glimpse of his brother, illuminated by the tattoo artists work lamp. He hadn't left Jack's side since he'd given him the drug. Hidden by the glare of the light inside and the still relative dark outside, Hector stood and watched as Ramon rose from the upholstered chair in the corner to examine Viacorta's work thus far.

Ramon smiled and ran his hand around the new ink, along the inflamed edges of the image. Hector remembered how much the tattoo had stung for the first few days. He hadn't been much more conscious than Jack, though, at the time. Ramon had seen to that as well, getting his eighteen year old brother good and drunk before the Senior had appeared at the house. But he still could see their proud father smiling down at him.

Hector didn't think their father would be smiling proudly at Jack this morning. He didn't agree with granting Jack this honor. Only a few outsiders had earned the Lady in the family's history, and they had given decades of loyalty before doing so. Jack had only been clever enough to earn them a decade worth of money in a very short time. Not good enough in Hector's opinion.

But this was not an argument worth having with Ramon. There was something about Jack that attracted Ramon to him like a moth to a flame. And with Ramon, when he was intrigued, logic and reason took a back seat. In Hector's opinion, if Ramon didn't trust Jack, he should just kill him. Period.

Hector went to go in before Ramon's coffee grew cold. But as he turned, he noticed Ramon sit on the bed, close to Jack. Hector stopped. Ramon's eyes travelled Jack's still body, his arms and legs still tightly held by the restraints. After a few more moments he raised his hand and turned Jack's sleeping face towards him. Jack didn't stir and Hector realized Ramon must be topping the dosage periodically to keep him this stoned.

With his hand on Jack's bruised cheek, Ramon let his thumb caress Jack's lips. Hector groaned. Ramon's hand then began to wander down Jack's neck to his chest. He flicked his fingers playfully over Jack's right nipple then continued south. By the time Ramon found and began to examine something, Hector was too far away to see what, just below Jack's navel, he couldn't watch anymore.

Turning away from the window, he leaned his back heavily against the weathered wood of the small house. Hector respected his brother more than any other person in his life, even their father. Ramon had taken their father's small but successful operation and grown it into an empire. But this…this occasional proclivity towards a man…he did not understand it.

Ramon could have any and all of the beautiful woman in this part of the country for the asking. And he did…and he enjoyed them. So why did he do this?

There hadn't been that many. But still…Of late he'd seen Ramon eyeing the Ordonez boy. Most of the men had been like Oscar…young, pretty. But a rare few had been like Jack…attractive to Ramon because of their own power…and his ability to have and control them if he wanted…just because he wanted. Hector didn't recall any of the latter group that had come to Ramon willingly. And most were never quite the same afterwards.

"Fuck," he said aloud. He'd been blind to this part of Ramon's plan. But maybe, even Ramon had been unaware until he'd had Jack bound, helpless, and nearly naked in front of him, like dinner on a plate. Self awareness had never been one of Ramon's strong points. Lust for Jack could have been subconsciously motivating him for months.

He didn't hazard a glance to see where Ramon's hand might have advanced. Instead, he stepped loudly away from the window so Ramon would hear him coming and then fumbled clumsily at the door to give him time to cover what he'd been doing. Of course, he'd be more embarrassed by it than would Ramon. Ramon believed himself a bull. If the bull strayed off the path occasionally, well, that was his right and yet another sign of his masculine strength of need.

"Good morning, Ramon," he greeted more cheerily than he felt as he entered. "I brought you some coffee."

Ramon nodded his thanks then jerked his head towards Jack's left arm. "What do you think?"

Hector stood over Jack. The tattoo was coming nicely. But he also noticed two small new puncture wounds on his right arm over the vein. And that the waistband of Jack's briefs was askew. Close up now, Hector saw the scars that must have caught Ramon's attention. "What are those you suppose?" he asked.

"Interesting, huh?" Ramon acknowledged. "Not accidental. Someone was angry with our friend Jack…or they wanted something." Ramon made a mental note to find out at some point.

Jack stirred—at least as much as he could in tight four point restraints. His hips fidgeted slightly, then his head. Ramon watched as Jack's eyes opened and immediately went to survey his arm. Even with all the heroin, that much art work would still hurt. His head lolled drunkenly back to the pillow when his brain wouldn't process what his eyes saw.

Ramon was slightly amused when Jack tried to rise from the bed as if he never realized the ropes were even there. When he couldn't, his eyes opened wider and he tried to flail more vigorously. The movement seemed to clear the fog a bit and he looked around until he spied Ramon.

"I…I…need to pee," he announce, his speech slow and heavy.

Ramon said nothing, instead, reaching for the kit. He wasn't ready for Jack to surface yet.

Jack grew more agitated as he figured out why he couldn't move and angrily tested the restraints, grabbing the ropes with his hands and tugging.

"Help me up Ramon," he slurred, not making the connection that Ramon was the one keeping him down. "I need the bathroom."

"Sorry, Jack," Ramon said insincerely as he secured the tourniquet one more around Jack's right bicep. "I can't help you. Do what you have to do."

"Fuck," Jack cursed, his eyes dancing briefly around their orbits before closing again as the new dose of heroin rapidly circulated through his body.

Once more the drug worked quickly and abolished Jack's last measure of control. Ramon smiled at the growing wet stain on Jack's briefs and the sheets. "Amazing how quickly a man can be stripped of his dignity, isn't it little brother?"

Hector wasn't smiling. He was slightly surprised that, despite his dislike bordering on hatred of Jack, he did not find this as satisfying as did Ramon. But he did agree with what Ramon had just said. "Yes, Ramon, it is," he agreed, not wanting to spoil his brother's pleasure.

Senior Diaz shuffled unannounced through the door, so engrossed in his work that he didn't notice the puddle that had just formed underneath his comatose client.

"Good work, Senor," Hector congratulated then turned to his brother. "Ramon, I will stay here if you would like to shower and have breakfast."

Ramon seemed to hesitate; as if afraid he might miss something. But he did need to take care of his own needs. "Thank you, Hector," he said. His eyes surveyed Jack's body one last time. "Tell Tomas to take the men…all the men…out to the training fields today. I don't want curious eyes watching the goings on around this room. Later, after the Senior is finished, we will move Jack into the main house." He finished his orders and strode out the door.

Hector retreated to the stuffed chair in the corner. "I don't envy you, you poor son of a bitch," he said under his breath to Jack, unheard by the old man over the noise of the compressor. "You picked the last man in this world you should piss off."

He pondered Jack's pathetic state for a few more moments. Then he closed his eyes to catch some rest. Ramon was surely going to be distracted for who knew how long. The weight of the ranch and the business would fall on him until Ramon got this out of his system—that was when Jack was either proven, or dead.

BEFORE SUNRISE, Saturday Morning, the Salazar Ranch, real time

Oscar pulled the van to a stop in front of the bunk house. "Padre," he shook his father's shoulder, "we're back. Wake up." A long ten minutes later, the van parked near the garage, he ambled slowly back towards the bunk room, two partially empty bottles of whiskey in his hands that had been left in the van.

Finally working up the courage, he feigned a drunken, stumbling gait and veered far off course, his detour taking him by the main house, around the side, and towards Jack's room. To add to the act, or to bolster his courage, he didn't know which; he finished one of the bottles.

He was nervous at the risk he was taking, but not too much. Drunkenness and taking up with woman was about all there was to do around here after work. Well, except for drugs. But he steered well clear of that. The one thing that the Salazars were tolerant about was drunken mishaps. Boys will be boys, that sort of thing. His age would give him yet another bye if he was caught drunk where he wasn't supposed to be.

During his amble around the compound, he noted where lights were on. He'd been in the residential part of the main house enough to have an idea of who occupied which rooms.  
But it was impossible to know what was usual. So the information wasn't all that helpful.

He flopped down onto the small porch in front of Jack's room after walking around the small annex house. There was a faint glow on Tomas' side, but only darkness on Jack's. It was too much to hope for that this ploy would prove to be effective. Tomorrow…on Sunday because they were expected to work on Saturday, he would borrow one of the ATV's and check the outbuildings scattered all over the ranch. He'd taken them out for fun before, so borrowing one would definitely not be suspicious.

Unintentionally, he'd finished the second bottle during his wanderings, so when he tried, he found feigning sleep was not a problem. He nodded off leaning against the porch post.

"Kid, wake up."

He opened his eyes to the grey light of early morning and with Tomas standing sternly above him. He wasn't sure exactly how much time had passed.

"What the hell are you doing over here?" Tomas demanded angrily.

Oscar fumbled for words and tried to stand up. "Uh…" he stammered. He looked around him as if trying to figure it out himself. "I think I had too much to drink."

"Si, obviously," Tomas said, reaching down and roughly pulling him to his feet.

Oscar figured he couldn't have been asleep too long. He felt more drunk than hung over. "I got laid last night," he announced triumphantly while surveying the lack of contents in the bottle in his hand. He grinned stupidly to add to the effect.

"Oh, good for you," Tomas said sarcastically. "Now get your horny ass back to the bunk house and get ready for work and I won't tell Ramon about this."

Oscar, relieved he had been right about this not being a punishable offense, hesitated and turned, looking at Jack's door. "When's he coming back?" he asked innocently. "He told me I could borrow some books. I'd really like them."

Tomas smiled at him. The kid was a fish out of water here. He was beginning to regret urging his father to bring him into the cartel. Oscar didn't have it in him to pretend to be blind, deaf, and dumb as Tomas himself had all these years. As Oscar grew older and more experienced, he would become a threat to Ramon--just like Jack was now. And look where all his talent had gotten Jack. Tomas was sickened at what Ramon had put him through. But it was not his place to judge Ramon Salazar.

"He'll be back soon. Maybe today." At least that's what Ramon had been planning. Jack was healing and through the worst of the withdrawal symptoms. But he also knew Ramon was still not satisfied. Tomas was confused at what Ramon was doing. But again, this was not his business.

Tomas shoved Oscar in the direction of the bunk house. But both stopped in their tracks when they saw a third man walking towards them.

Jack's gait was slow and steady. As he grew nearer, Oscar saw that he did not look good. His clothing was disheveled and he looked pale—and bruised. Oscar was both amazed at his own timing, catching Jack at the moment of his return, and embarrassed to see him like this. Jack was always so together and in control—even when in pain. He immediately thought he'd been correct about what he'd told that Tony guy. Ramon had had Jack on the ranch this entire time. Though he thought he was right, he couldn't understand why Ramon would do that.

Hesitantly, reluctantly, Jack slowed as he neared them. "Tomas," he said, barely meeting Tomas's gaze.

"Welcome back, Jack," Tomas greeted dolefully, continuing the useless charade for Oscar's benefit—as if he'd really been gone.

Jack didn't seem happy to be 'back.' "Hello, Oscar," he mumbled perfunctorily as he began on his way again.

Oscar saw his opportunity. He covertly found the note in his pocket and grasped it lightly in his hand. "Good morning, Jack," he greeted far too cheerily, lurching away from Tomas' grasp. The stumble he feigned put him perfectly in Jack's path, causing them to awkwardly collide.

Oscar's heart was pounding. He respected Jack, and he liked him. Once in a while, Jack would make an effort to speak with Oscar in English so he could practice. Jack was different from how he was while working - on the rare occasions he'd been alone with him. And Jack really had offered Oscar some books. But he still had a healthy fear of him too. He'd seen what Jack was capable of.

When they bumped, Jack cursed quietly and reached out to right Oscar. Oscar grabbed Jack's hip, ostensibly for stability, but actually as the perfect cover to slip Tony's note into Jack's pocket. Oscar saw Jack glance down at him and he knew that Jack had felt his hand. _Oh, please don't give me away_, Oscar pleaded silently looking down at the ground to avoid Jack's eyes.

But Jack did not skip a beat. He pushed the boy back towards Tomas. "Get a hold of yourself Oscar, God damn it," he swore and shoved past.

Tomas grabbed the boy roughly and pushed him forward. Oscar couldn't believe he'd pulled this off. Now all he had to do was wait and hope that Tony hadn't been bull shitting him. Oh, and that Jack didn't come after him pissed because Oscar had talked about him to an outsider. And then he had to pray that Ramon never found out.

Suddenly, he wasn't all that relieved. 


	3. Chapter 5 and 6

5-  
THE SALAZAR RANCH, Thirteen days before:

Jack awoke completely disoriented. He didn't recognize the room. And for sure he didn't remember how the hell he'd gotten here. Only when one end of the handcuffs clanked hard against the wrought iron headboard did he achieve any degree of clarity. Ramon. The heroin.

There was a small light on in the room, but no light coming from the window, so it was night. But what night? To his surprise, he found his left arm was unbound. Absently he ran his free hand over his eyes and then downward, finding at least a day's growth on his face. Fucking Ramon had kept him in a drug stupor for at least twenty four hours. He moaned in frustration and gave one more tug at the cuffs holding him to the bed. While the ornate cast iron was never meant to provide a means of bondage, it was doing a good job. The heavy metal didn't budge.

He stopped pulling on his sore wrist and discovered his mouth was parched and his tongue seemed glued in place. The pounding in his head was bad and confirmed he'd not had any food or water for too long.

While his right arm was cuffed, he found he could still move enough to swing his legs off the bed and sit up. Which he did too fast. A wave of vertigo and nausea held him still and he rubbed again at his eyes, waiting for them to clear. When they did, the first thing they beheld was the tattoo.

"What the fuck?" Jack asked aloud into the otherwise empty room. But he knew exactly what it was—the mark of the Salazar cartel. And not just the cartel, but the inner circle. Only Ramon and Hector wore this tattoo. And now him.

He wished he could enjoy the success of having infiltrated the cartel to the highest level…but the cuffs and the bruises on his face killed the buzz. They meant he was still in the process of paying for the privilege of the tattoo. This was so unlike Ramon-to give the gift _before_ extracting the payment. That was worrisome to say the least.

For a moment, he stopped worrying about what Ramon had planned and appreciated the inked art on his forearm. He supposed he should be disgusted at how Ramon had, basically, disfigured him. But he wasn't. Staring at the finely done intricate design, he was pleased-although he was unsure why. Was it because he had moved so high, so quickly? Was it purely for the aesthetics of the thing? Or was it because this tattoo would serve as a permanent reminder of what he could…or had…become?

From now on, not a day would go by without physical proof that he had become Ramon's lap dog. That he had done things in the name of this job that sickened him. And this tattoo would never let him forget. Just penance.

"Do you like it?"

Jack started. Ramon had come in without a sound. The door must have been left ajar. He said nothing. He wouldn't give Ramon the pleasure of a 'thanks' or of admiration.

Ramon was instantly irritated. Jack could sense the simmering emotion as Ramon walked to the bed. But he maintained control as he took Jack's left arm and held it next to his own. The two Ladies lie next to each other, head to foot and foot to head. They were so alike…only the differences inherent in hand crafted art were discernable.

Ramon was pleased with himself and could not hold back a satisfied smile. "Lovely." When Jack didn't agree aloud, he roughly dropped his arm. "You stink," he announced harshly.

Jack couldn't argue with him there. He smelled of sweat and drink…and aging piss. He looked down past his naked chest at his groin. His jeans were clean, but he saw the telltale stain ascending all the way to the exposed band of his briefs.

Still Jack said nothing, even though he knew his silence was goading Ramon. He'd had no control over this. He hadn't been the one who injected enough heroin so that he didn't even feel when he had to go. Jack's eyes moved to his right arm. Four tiny puncture wounds dotted his vein, each with its own halo of dark blood.

Ramon took this as the accusation it was. When he lashed out, the first punch to the side of his head knocked Jack slightly silly. He tried to push back onto the bed, but gravity had far more control than he did and he slipped awkwardly off the mattress and right into the path of Ramon's boot.

At first, Jack found himself counting the blows, as if there might be a finite number. Ramon usually liked multiples of five. Ten lashes were most common. But 'ten' came and went quickly and soon he was simply laid out and helpless against the side of the bed without much coherent thought. His tautly restrained right arm prevented even the little protection of curling into a ball. At least Ramon wasn't kicking him full force. He'd be dead.

Suddenly, his right arm was freed and flopped numbly into his lap. Without it as ballast, he slumped slowly to the left, moaning when his battered muscles hit the floor. The coolness of the terra cotta, at least, was soothing. Above him, Jack heard Ramon's heavy breathing as he recovered and, hopefully, calmed down.

No time had passed before Ramon gruffly ordered, "Get up."

Jack wanted to comply, and he tried, but Ramon was still irritated and impatient. Grabbing Jack under the shoulder, he hauled him half way up. Jack was angry that he couldn't suppress a cry of pain at the rapid movement. Ramon didn't bother to wait until his feet were under him. Instead, he dragged him by that one arm into the bathroom. Holding Jack like a rag doll not far from his hip, he jerked open the shower curtain and essentially threw Jack onto the floor of the small enclosed space.

He barely had time to open his eyes and see the finely crafted colorful tile under his cheek before cold water rained down on him. "Oh fuck," he swore loudly as his breath caught in the freezing onslaught.

"He speaks," Ramon intoned flatly.

Jack struggled up, using his legs to push out from under the steady stream of frigid water and into the back corner of the shower stall. The shower light flicked on. Inanely, he realized he must be in the main house because of how beautiful the tile surrounding him was.

Unfortunately, in the middle of all the beautifully painted tiles, in the shower opening, stood Ramon's hulking figure. Ramon wasn't that big. Jack had always been impressed how he could project a much more imposing mass than he owned.

His arms wrapped around his own chest, Jack shivered. Ramon glared down at him. "Take your pants off."

Instantly Jack wanted to bargain. He'd do it for warm water. Thoughts of his modesty came second. He stared up at Ramon.

"I am not coming in there to finish what I started in the bedroom. You are not going to get off that easy. If you want to die, you'll have to work for it."

The words took Jack off guard. _Dying? Working to 'get to' die?_ Just how bad was what Ramon had planned? He shivered again.

Ramon was reveling in this. Jack, helpless, wounded, weak-at his mercy. Shivering, covered in gooseflesh in the corner of the shower, the wet drops on his eyelashes as he looked up at him made Jack look more like a child than his toughest and most capable man.

His eyes went to Jack's arm. "That tattoo. You know you haven't earned her yet."

Jack knew. He looked at his arm, then at Ramon, waiting to hear the rest.

"If you want to keep your arm, then you had better find a way to make yourself worthy of her," he said referring to the Lady. He paused to let the threat sink in. "I'll help you get started. Step one…take off your pants." He paused again. "Step two…don't ever fucking make me repeat an order again."

So that's what this was about—obedience. Maybe Ramon had set him up at the raid, but he'd done it to proof a point. No matter how high up in the cartel, no matter how useful he was or how much money he brought in, Ramon's word was the law. And Ramon would teach him not to question the law, even when Ramon might be wrong.

Ramon was playing a high stakes game here. Either Jack learned or he died. This wasn't about punishment; this ordeal would be about submission. If he didn't submit, he had no doubt Ramon would take the Lady away and his arm with her. There'd be no tourniquet or doctor. He'd bleed to death in the dirt in the courtyard while Ramon gloated over him. He'd have spent the last six months of his life wasted in this hell hole.

Jack couldn't let that happen, not this close to the end. He had to find a way to make Ramon think he'd won. Step one-he reached for the button on his jeans. A new set of shivers racked his very recently abused body with pain. Ramon stood watching impassively. Jack braced his hand against the wall to stand.

"Stay down," Ramon ordered.

Obviously, Ramon liked this tableau. A man naked and huddled on the floor of a shower stall wasn't much of a threat. Jack suspected Ramon was a little afraid of what he still could do even in this condition. Jack glanced up and saw the gun in Ramon's waistband.  
Ramon didn't get where he was by being careless.

Jack obeyed. As he unzipped his pants he unhappily noted his hand was now shaking too. He honestly had to admit the tremor wasn't all from the cold. His back against the corner, he braced his bare, pale feet against the floor and lifted as he hooked his thumbs under the waistbands of his briefs and jeans. The wet jeans seemed glued to his hips and as the muscles of his arms and chest tensed to push, another shiver consumed him.

The knife like pain that shot through his left side was overwhelming. His muscles quickly abandoned their work and he flopped to the floor on his good side, clutching at the phantom blade that seemed to be impaling him on the other.

At the shower door, Ramon smiled when Jack couldn't mask the pain. Jack's brief but loud cry was quite satisfying. He was already making progress—the iron façade was weakening. He watched Jack writhe on the floor for a few seconds under the still hard spray from the shower head, satisfied that he must have broken a rib or two with a well aimed kick.

Jack's hands on his chest were pale and his finger nails were turning a grayish shade of blue. The aquifer under the ranch was very deep. Their water was very cold.

"Hurting, Jack?" he asked nonchalantly. He was tempted to pull a chair up and light a cigar to fully enhance this moment.

It took Jack a few seconds to respond. "Yes, Ramon, it hurts." Jack had no choice but to play the game.

"Good, Jack," he rewarded condescendingly, knowing for a man like Jack, an admission of weakness cost him. "Now get those off."

Between the pain and the humiliation, Jack couldn't look up at Ramon. He stayed down on his side and in little fits and starts managed, over what seemed like an eternity, to nudge the sodden garments down to his thighs. He would need to sit up to take them off…and that would mean facing Ramon. He lay still catching his breath, not ready for that yet.

But at this point, Ramon was in no hurry, so he didn't prod Jack to keep moving. No, he had a fine view of his smooth white ass contrasting with the dark wet denim that bunched just below. Jack's tanned back quivered with cold induced tremors-making his muscles ripple in a rather pleasing way.

The shivering was nonstop now and Ramon finally took pity on the huddled man at his feet. He reached in quickly and turned the handle to 'warm.' As he toweled his dampened arm, he heard Jack moan in relief behind him. That was the key-suffering and then relief. Keep him off balance, always knowing that if he did the right thing, if he gave Ramon what he wanted, he would be rewarded. The pain need not be constant.

Jack wanted to cry, that's how good that warm water felt. He let the steady stream warm his back and side then he turned over, bringing his chest and face to the comfort. In his relief, he'd forgotten about Ramon's prying eyes. His eyelids closed against the spray, his knees bent but were held relatively close to each other by his pants around his thighs, he fortunately missed Ramon studying him, his cold and shrunken genitals lying flaccid above the opened jeans.

Ramon was not feeling generous enough to let Jack remain ignorant of his voyeurism. "I hope that is not a permanent state," he teased, "but maybe that would explain why you do not often use the ladies I make freely available." When Jack didn't take the bait, he continued. "I'd be embarrassed too."

Jack heard him, but just like his pissing himself, the state of his manhood was Ramon's doing. Only Ramon and his self inflated image would be insulted at this. Jack was too cold and in too much pain to let an adolescent insult like that get to him. Unfortunately, he had momentarily forgotten about playing the game. The water turned freezing again. He gasped.

His eyes flew open as he retreated back to the corner. "I'm sorry, Ramon," he instantly blurted, not knowing what he was apologizing for—maybe disappointing Ramon that his dick was not stalwart enough to face the onslaught of the frigid water?

Ramon snorted disgustedly. Jack still needed a lot of work.

A bar of soap hit Jack squarely in the chest.

"Wash up and get out. Then shave. You have five minutes," Ramon ordered and then disappeared.

Although he needed to hurry to comply and, before that, turn the warm water back on, Jack let his head fall back and relaxed in the moment of privacy. He didn't know if he was going to be able to pull this off. And even if he did everything Ramon demanded, the son of a bitch might still kill him. Briefly he wondered if it was even worth the bother of trying.

He pulled his jeans and underwear off the rest of the way and stood, his cold and battered body protesting every movement but motivated by the need to find heat. He'd try. But he knew that Ramon had no limits. This was going to get very ugly before it was over.

PUBLIC FOREST, TWENTY KILOMETERS FROM THE SALAZAR RANCH, EARLY SATURDAY EVENING, real time

The park was a little too close to the town of Xapata than he'd like, but they needed the cell signal. Tony could see nothing but a few trees dotting the grey horizon. Maria slept soundly next to him in a sleeping bag spread out on the floor of the van. He hoped to join her soon. But first he needed to hear from CTU.

They'd driven away from Los Rios before sunrise as a precaution. As soon as the time had been reasonable, he'd called CTU and apprised Ryan, Chase, and Michelle of what had happened with Oscar. For once, Ryan actually seemed pleased. Of course how could he not be? The intel on the ranch was detailed, they had some knowledge of why Jack had gone dark, and they even had a chance that Jack would get word of the raid. The downside, that Oscar might turn, seemed small in comparison.

The day had raced by. Chase had only needed a few hours to readjust all the previously drawn up plans to take into account the new intel. Then a few more to coordinate logistics with the local agencies. All CTU wanted was Ramon and Hector and their computer hard drives. Mexican police and drug enforcement could have everybody and everything else. And the extra manpower would be welcome, even if they only used them to set up an outer perimeter.

At 8pm sharp Tony's phone vibrated.

"Weather's good, the locals are on board. It's a go," Chase said without greeting. "Meet at 5am at the rendezvous point. The raid will begin at 6:15 with sunrise at 6:30."

"Okay," Tony said succinctly. For some reason he'd been subconsciously hoping they'd abort. Probably personal. He would have preferred knowing if Jack had gotten the note or not and that he was safe.

"Tony," Ryan joined in. "Stay in range of a tower so we can reach you in the event of a change. We'll be staging for a couple of more hours then the team will try to get some rest before we fly in. I suggest you do the same."

He was already planning that…after moving the van to somewhere more remote. But Ryan was right, they needed to take the risk and stay here so they could be reached.

"I understand Ryan." They'd been over the details so many times today there was nothing more to talk about.

"And Tony?" Ryan added.

"Yeah?" Tony asked gruffly, already a bit anxious about what was to come.

"Great work."

_Only if we get Ramon and Hector alive, and Jack_, he thought to himself. But a compliment from Ryan was a rare thing and he wasn't going to push it.

"Yeah, thanks," he said hanging up.

"Maria," he nudged her small down encased form.

"What?" she asked sleepily.

"We're on, 0500."

Maria sat up and checked her phone then set the alarm for 3am. Tony did the same.

THE SALAZAR RANCH, 13 DAYS BEFORE

Shaving was difficult. His hand was still stiff and numb with cold. But he wasn't about to try Ramon's patience and he did the best he could quickly. Wrapped in two dry towels he'd found on the rack-one around his waist and one around his shoulders, he steeled his breath and opened the door.

"I said five minutes, not six," Ramon growled as he threw a cuff around one of Jack's wrists. He'd been standing against the wall next to the door, waiting to pounce. He pushed Jack hard towards the bed. Jack managed to hold on to the towel around his waist, but lost the other during his fall onto the mattress.

"I'm sorry Ramon," Jack groveled as Ramon put a knee to his back and painfully wrenched the cuffed arm behind him. Jack could probably take him right now. Ramon knew this and Jack wondered whether this was a test to see how much Jack was going to fight him. Right now, he had no such plans. For all he knew, Hector was outside with a baseball bat, waiting.

Ramon had planned on pushing Jack to the bed and then having him cuff himself to the bedstead again. But he'd impulsively come down on him when he'd seen Jack come to rest off balance and face down on the bed. He wondered how Jack would take it if he knew how hard Ramon had instantly become the moment his knee brushed across Jack's towel draped ass.

_Not yet_, he paced himself. _Not too quickly. He has to come to you_. Ramon almost moaned out loud knowing it could take days, maybe weeks before Jack was willing to capitulate. But he would. Or Ramon would take him anyway and then kill him immediately. That definitely would be much more unpleasant for Jack. And he had to be honest with himself. He didn't want to lose Jack. He just wanted to be sure of him.

The room was deadly quiet as each man waited to see what the other might do. The answer was nothing. Ramon realized the risk he was taking getting this close to an unbound and very threatened Jack. If Jack fought, he'd have to punish him severely and at this point, he didn't want him badly injured. Constantly in pain, yes, but not unconscious or needing a hospital. That would be counter productive.

And Jack knew that even if he could beat Ramon in the condition he was in right now, he'd get nothing except the satisfaction followed by a substantial punishment.

Ramon stood and backed away from the bed. "Cuff yourself to the bed and then lie down on your back." Jack didn't look back as he moved. If he had, Ramon's erection under his fine linen slacks would have obvious. Ramon was glad. For now, he preferred to keep Jack ignorant.

Once he heard the tell tale click of the cuff and Jack settled down on the bed, Ramon escaped to the bathroom until the evidence was gone and to get the kit.

Jack's eyes followed him when he emerged and circled the bed to Jack's left side and sat down. Jack's unfettered left arm remained still. Maybe testing Jack hadn't been such a bad idea. Constant multiple restraints were a pain. All he needed was to keep him on the bed and for him to be still when needed. Like now.

Again, like last night, Ramon made a show of filling the needle and prepping Jack's arm. But it didn't go as quickly this time. Jack's arm was still very cold to the touch and his veins had all but disappeared in an attempt to conserve heat.

Jack was seething. Every fiber in his body wanted to lash out and pummel Ramon as the controlling bastard sat there and tried to rub warmth back into his arm, roughly flicking the crook in his elbow to coax the vein to the surface. But unlike last night, Jack wasn't trying to avoid the drug. As he had known he would, he wanted it-badly. He just wanted to hurt Ramon.

"Not begging me not to do it tonight, Jack?" he asked, finally finding a suitable pale blue target and placing the needle over it. "You want the rush, don't you?"

"Yes, I want it Ramon." His voice sounded automated, the sought after confirmation, the truth, spilling emotionlessly from his lips.

Ramon picked up on the tone. Jack would need to reach a point where true feeling and need inspired his answers instead of forced responses that he knew Ramon wanted to hear. Ramon smiled as he injected the drug. _Once an addict, always an addict_ he thought as Jack's features went slack. Maybe Jack had been right about never being able to fully trust a junkie. He'd have to think about that some more in the coming days.

With Jack out, he returned to the bathroom to put away the kit in the hiding place. Jack's discarded jeans and briefs caught his eye. He began to harden again at the picture of Jack lying almost completely undressed on the shower floor.

He was a little taken aback by this new degree of lust. Until last night, he hadn't thought of Jack in this way. Not that it bothered him. The new found sexual aspect of this allowed for an entirely more interesting dimension of things to do with and to Jack. And Jack was far more interesting than that post pubescent Ordonez kid he'd been admiring. Every once in a while, he enjoyed feeling the strength and power of a man in his bed…and then proving he had more. Jack would do nicely…very nicely.

Ramon turned out the lights in the bathroom and then the bedroom. He walked to the window and opened the shutters letting a little moonlight flood the room. He should go. He had work he'd neglected most of the day when his attention had been diverted by Jack. Instead, he found himself wandering back to the bed. After a pause, he found himself reaching for the towel around Jack's waist. He tugged smartly at the edge and let it fall open.

Even that small bit of extra air caused a ripple of goose flesh on Jack's still chilled skin. But Jack's penis and balls were more to his liking now that he was a little warmer. His own dick swelled quickly at the sight of the entirely exposed, compact, muscular body.

Without thinking, he unzipped and took himself in his hand. He moaned at the thought of forcing Jack to do this to him-one hand roughly grabbing his blond hair, the other holding a gun to his throat. The fantasy morphed into Jack's mouth, not his hand, on his cock. He stroked slowly while he enjoyed the image of Jack on his knees in front of him. Then he stroked hard several times and came quickly.

Ramon was slightly annoyed with Jack for making him feel this way, for making him loose control of his urges. He leaned forward and wrapped the towel back around the thin hips, wiping his hand clean at the same time. Jack wouldn't know, not yet anyway. He zipped up and tucked his shirt in.

He found a blanket at the foot of the bed and threw it over the sleeping figure. No use in letting him get sick. "See you in the morning Jack," he said before closing the door behind him and throwing the dead bolt he'd had Tomas install on the guest room door.  
6-

THREE DAYS LATER

Once again Jack awoke to a dark room. The heavy shutters had been closed tight every time he'd opened his eyes. He could tell when it was daylight only when the room seemed more grey than black. Ramon, or someone, had been leaving food and water. He was suspicious Ramon was monitoring him, because as soon as he'd eaten, Ramon would appear, let him up to use the bathroom, taunt him for a brief time and then snow him again.

Jack wasn't sure how many days he'd been fed and watered in the dark now, like a fucking mushroom. But the lack of light, the isolation, and the drug induced fog were getting to him—probably just as Ramon had calculated.

So much of his work was done outdoors. He liked being outside, even doing physical labor on the hot days didn't bother him. It reminded him of when he was a kid and in the summers he used to sign on to landscape crews to make some money. He hadn't minded the side benefit of showing up to football practice in late August ripped from all the lifting and shoveling.

Fuck, he couldn't believe he was laying here thinking about football practices from a lifetime ago. But not being outside, not seeing the sun, that's what he was having the biggest problem with-since it was one of the few things here he'd latched onto that felt good, or at least not bad.

He let his eyes adjust as much as they could to the dark and then he swung his legs over the bed to sit up to eat…left handed. He wanted to ask Ramon to switch wrists—his right one was bruised and raw now and he'd like to be able to use his right hand. But given how miserable he already felt, knowing a simple request might set off that hair trigger temper, he'd let it go rather than risk more bruises just as this set was healing.

Right on schedule, as soon as he finished the last bite, he heard the lock open outside the door. The lights flicked on. Jack's free arm flew to shield his eyes.  
"Look at me," Ramon ordered, knowing damn well Jack would find that physically impossible at this moment. He pulled Jack's arm from his face.

Jack's unadjusted eyes squinted and teared. He couldn't comply. He waited for the blow for not following an order.

But Ramon just laughed. He just wanted to see Jack try. Poor Jack. Three days of growth on his very tan yet sallow skin, his hair dirty and sticking up, and his bruises from that first day a ghastly shade of green—cowering to protect his eyes.

Ramon produced a prefilled syringe and grabbed Jack's free arm. The deed was done quickly. Jack waited for the rush…the only worthwhile part of this ordeal. But there was no rush…no high. Instead, his head felt like it was filled with helium and his body with lead, and then some son of a bitch put him on a merry go round.

Again Ramon laughed. "You look like a drunken sailor, Jack." And he did, sitting there swaying slowly on the bed, his eyelids moving up and down slowly in exaggerated blinks. Ramon hoped the drug loosened Jack's tongue like some drunk as well.

Funny, Jack thought, that's exactly how he felt…drunk on a boat. "Yeah," he slurred. "Ramon…?"

"Yes, Jack?"

Jack hadn't meant to pause, but his tongue was just too heavy to use quickly. "What…did you …give me?" he finally managed.

"A barbiturate."

The word 'why' formed in his head, but the imaginary feeling of swaying on a heavy sea was having the concrete effect of upsetting the hell out of his stomach.

"Sick…" he blurted.

"What?" Ramon tried to understand.

"Fuck, I'm…gonna be…"

Ramon got it before he finished. He added his own curse word before Jack saw him grab the small trash can and throw it at him. Ramon took a step back. He was no fucking nurse. But he did have the decency to refill Jack's water bottle from the sink while he waited for Jack to finish.

Jack was too fried to be even mildly disgusted by wiping his face with his bed sheet. And Ramon's effort with the water bottle was wasted. He wouldn't have minded washing out his mouth, but he was fairly certain he didn't have the coordination to actually grab the bottle and bring it to his mouth.

"Done?" Ramon asked coldly before he took the trash can and shoved it into the bathroom.

Jack moved to lie down. That was the pattern—food, drug, sleep. Of course, the lights should have told him today…or tonight…whatever the fuck it was…was different. He'd already forgotten the drug had been different too.

"No, stay up," Ramon said roughly, grabbing Jack disheveled hair to hold him in place.

Jack stared at him drunkenly, barely suppressing what would have been a comical "Huh?"

"We're going to talk."

"Talk?" Jack repeated. "About what?" That was the drug. Jack knew sober and alert he would have never asked that question. He would have waited patiently for Ramon to come to the point.

Jack hadn't realized Ramon's hand was still in his hair until he pulled hard. Jack gasped and lifted his hand to grab Ramon's arm. But even drugged, he remembered he shouldn't do that half way there and stopped.

"Anything I fucking ask you about," Ramon said, giving Jack's head a rough jerk before he let go. He went and retrieved the upholstered chair, pushing it up to the bed while watching Jack struggle to stay upright.

Jack did the slow blink a few times to no avail. Ramon continued to come in and out of focus and occasionally split into two in front of him. _Two Ramons_ thought Jack,_ fucking great, just what the world needs. _

"What's so damn funny?" Ramon asked as he sat.

This time he did say it. "Huh?" He had no idea he'd laughed aloud about the two Ramons thing.

"You laughed..." he began and let it go, knowing explaining to Jack in this state would just take too long. But, of course, this was the state he'd been trying to achieve for the past three days. Disoriented to day and night, isolated, powerless, and messed up on two different drugs. He hadn't hurt Jack yet. Before he did, he wanted to see what he could learn from him in this condition.

Jack's upper eyelids began a slow journey down to meet the lower ones at the same time his torso began an exaggerated list to one side. Ramon worried the dose may have been too big. He'd given Jack barely enough food and water to get by. He was probably dehydrated and weak and he should have figured that into the dosing.

"Wake up," Ramon ordered and then followed swiftly with a moderate slap across Jack's cheek.

"Uh," Jack grunted as his eyes popped open and he saved himself from toppling over. As he did, he wrenched his bound wrist against the metal cuff and grunted in pain a second time.

Ramon saw Jack's wrist. The circumferential bruise was red and black and in places his skin was beginning to break down. To give Jack a small break, Ramon released the cuff. Absently, Jack rubbed at his battered wrist, fighting to keep his eyes opened.

"Jack," Ramon began, thinking maybe engaging him quickly would keep him a tad more alert until the drug started to clear out some. "Tell me where you're from."

"What?" Jack asked, wondering why the hell Ramon would care…and he thought Ramon already knew that. Wait, he cautioned himself, careful. He's trying to trip you up. Jack fought to recall the details of his cover story and the falsified background that Ramon would have dug up on him. Shit, it was all muddled in his brain. Ramon was fucking good.

Jack had paused for too long. Ramon seemed to have a thing for his hair today. He grabbed it again. "Jack, you know the rules. I ask once. If I have to tell you again you will regret it."

"Yeah…LA." One for one. But he doubted they'd stay easy like that.

"What did your father do for a living?"

Oh this was weird, Ramon asking shit like that. Was that something in the file Chloe made up? Was this a background test or something else? Only the second question and he was winging it already.

"He beat the shit out of my mother and me."

Ramon considered Jack's answer. Maybe that was why Jack was so stubbornly tough sometimes-and maybe where the dark side of his personality came from. Clean cut Jack, the blond California boy who could kill and torture when ordered. Jack's personality, the man he saw out on the ranch among the other men, was never as dark to Ramon as Jack's actions could be.

But that's not what he had asked.

"For money, Jack," he prompted as he laid three soft pats on Jack's cheek as a reminder to concentrate. Jack blinked with each contact.

Jack was desperately concocting a life story in his head-as close to his own life so he'd remember, but different enough from reality to be believable. His father had never abused him, physically at least.

"Don't know Ramon, he wasn't around much. Maybe a mechanic…I don't know," he repeated. "When I was old enough to care…" Jack rubbed at his face. This was so hard, stringing three sentences together. All he wanted to do was lay down. But he kept going. "I'd already scared him off with a baseball bat. He wasn't so tough."

"Tell me about that." Ramon wanted to hear where Jack's impressive skills in violence had their roots.

Jack was befuddled by why Ramon would care. But even befuddled and dopey, he knew he better than to ask why. So he continued to weave the story best he could and prayed he kept it together and making sense. He was fighting the nausea again.

"Baseball practice…I came home…he was hurting her."

"Who, your mother?"

"Yeah. I swung the bat and hurt him bad. I kept screaming…he tried to get me…but I was faster. I hit him again. Never saw him after that."

"How old were you?"

"Thirteen…maybe fourteen."

That story he had just told had been wishful thinking. He'd been too young to do anything but listen to his father scream at his mother and wish he could protect her. She was gone by the time he played baseball. But he'd never forgotten.

Especially those nights his father would be waiting for him. Dad had never come to the games. Instead he'd wait at home for Jack to return then start on him about some grievance or other that he'd mulled over all evening and turned into something big. Even without being there, he always seemed to know when Jack had had a good game or a big win; because those were the nights he'd ride him the worst.

Jack would take it, just like his mother had. But standing there, his mind would be filled with frustration and anger and images of his bat sitting only yards away on the back porch. His father would taunt him, almost reading his mind, daring him to try. Jack never did. Instead, he escaped as soon as he could…to the army where he received accolades for acting out as he couldn't at home.

Ramon could easily picture a young Jack, back from practice, fiercely protecting his mother with a baseball bat. Again, the light and the dark coexisting, even as a boy.

The questions continued in this vein for several minutes-about his family, growing up, when he had joined the army. Jack was satisfied that Ramon was buying his stories. And with each succeeding question Jack's groggy mind wrapped more easily around the lies and warped truths. He grew complacent and began to think more about how much he'd like to go to sleep than the questions and answers.

"Tell me how your wife died."

Jack's heart pounded in his chest. The adrenaline produced by those words knocked him out of the stupor that he'd been heading towards.

"My wife?" he asked.

Ramon saw Jack animate and knew he had hit a nerve.

"Yes, your wife. You told me once you started the heroin after she'd died. How did she die?" Actually, he'd read that in the report about Jack's background Tomas had compiled. But he figured Jack was too stoned to remember he'd never said a thing about his dead wife.

Teri…she was shot…but wait, that wasn't this story. He thought hard. Car accident…that's what it had been…while he was stationed overseas.

"She was killed in a car accident." Then he remembered the other detail they'd made up to make the story more tragic. Give him more reason to have started the habit. "With my son. They both died." That wasn't that far from the truth. He looked up at Ramon. "I lost it after that." That wasn't either. The drug had decreased his inhibitions. His eyes were filling with real tears for his real wife.

"Where were you when she died?"

The accusation was there…why hadn't he saved her? Why hadn't he? He had tried. But failed.

"I was gone, somewhere…out of the country, but I wasn't there."

"That must have hurt, huh, Jack? She died and you weren't even in the country."

Jack sniffed loudly. "Why are you doing this?" he asked, as if he'd forgotten to whom he was speaking—the man who never needed a reason to be cruel.

Ramon hit him. "I ask the questions." The truth was he wasn't quite sure, but he had the sense that it was working. This was a weakness for Jack, this sentimentality about his family. The drug was of course bringing the emotions to the surface, but there was all this feeling simmering just beyond view.

"Tell me about the first time you used."

Jack thought back. He'd made contact with a dealer with connections to the Salazar cartel. He'd been nursing the connection for weeks by then, watching the dealers and the addicts. After the buy, it had been too late to go back to CTU, he'd taken the heroin home. Kate had been at her father's in Florida. They'd been fighting a lot lately as he'd become more tense and involved in this mission.

Undressing, seeing his reflection in the mirror, all he saw was an agent. He'd seen the addicts. Once undercover, they'd know; he'd been convinced he'd be found out for a fake. Still, he hadn't done it. The next day though, instead of turning in the vial to be stored and catalogued, he'd lied, said he hadn't had a chance to make the buy.

For three days he fought the temptation to shoot up, the vial in his hand…for the cover, to know what the rush felt like, just once. The fourth day had been Teri's birthday.

Kate had called to see how he was. Instead of being grateful she'd remembered and cared, he'd picked a fight. After he'd hung up, he'd been overwhelmed by the same dark feelings that had consumed him for the year after Teri's death—loss, loneliness…and most of all, guilt. He'd had a few drinks. Just as it always had, the alcohol only deepened the funk.

But the heroin…that had taken all the pain and guilt away. He didn't even remember having made the decision to finally do it. In his memory, all he saw was the needle in his hand and then that first incredible rush.

The next morning he was disgusted. He tried to lie to himself that he'd done it because of his cover. But he knew he'd fixed for the wrong reason. He almost confessed to Tony what he'd done. But that would have ended the mission…and he couldn't let that happen. And as disgusted as he had been earlier the same day, that night, he found himself with the syringe in his hand once again.

After that, buying, fixing, all of it became easy. And he convinced himself that now his cover would be safe—even if his relationship and his honor were killed in the process.

"Jack," Ramon said loudly to bring him back from the trance he'd fallen into.

Jack jumped a little in surprise at hearing his name. He really had been back in time. "Uh…" he stammered, trying to remember the question. "My wife's birthday. A year after she died. I was alone…I knew a dealer. Got drunk, and then made a buy. The drug…it made me forget…them both."

Ramon was disappointed; he'd been expecting something a little more dramatic. But he knew that was unrealistic. Now the way he'd gotten Jack re-hooked—that was fucking dramatic.

Ramon was growing a little bored with his game. He stood and stretched then pushed the chair back to the corner. In that small space of time, Jack managed to close his eyes and appeared to doze off—sitting up. Ramon went and stood close to him. He lifted Jack's chin off his chest and studied his face. Jack opened his eyes, confused to be looking straight up into Ramon's.

This exercise had been interesting. He knew a little more about Jack. But he still wanted more. Then he remembered the scars.

"Lie down, Jack," he ordered.

Jack didn't hesitate to comply. Ramon sat on the bed next to him. Jack seemed oblivious. Ramon lifted the hem of his white tee shirt to expose the scars he'd discovered on that first night. He ran his index finger over the highest and deepest of them. Jack didn't stir until Ramon was exploring the fourth or fifth mark that disappeared under the waist band of his boxers. Absently, Jack's hand batted Ramon's away then plopped down protectively just below his navel. His eyes were still closed.

"Jack," he said.

"Hmmm?" asked Jack sleepily, not opening his eyes and certainly not fully aware the question and answer session had not ended.

"These scars, how did you get them?"

When Jack didn't respond, Ramon took the waistband and pushed it down far, stopping just before he exposed him. Jack's right hand flashed into action once more. This time Ramon grabbed his wrist and slammed it violently to the bed, making sure to wrench hard on the tender and bruised skin.

"Ahhh," Jack exclaimed and opened his eyes to see what the hell Ramon was up to. Ramon's left hand still held tightly to his wrist, his right was examining one of the lower marks. When Jack lifted his head, the earlier vertigo reared again with the sudden movement and his stomach churned. "What?" Jack asked, simply wanting Ramon to release his wrist and let him sleep before he was sick again.

"What are these scars from?"

"Interrogation," Jack answered barely audibly without forethought. Or even afterthought as he tried to drift off again without realizing what he'd said.  
_  
Interrogation? Now that was interesting._ Ramon studied the marks further, noting some were healed ragged cuts, some where definitely burns, and up this close, he could discern the easily identifiable marks of tazer prongs. Tazers didn't usually leave marks…unless they'd been modified and amplified beyond their usual limits. He wasn't unfamiliar with that trick.

"Jack," he said, slapping him gently on the cheek to arouse him. Although he didn't want to wake him—Ramon didn't think a fully awake Jack would have given up that one word answer so readily. "Why were you being interrogated?"

"Interrogated?" Jack asked.

"Yes," Ramon pressed on, "you said the scars were from an interrogation. What did they want?"

He woke up slightly, realizing he'd said something he didn't remember even saying.

"Who?"

Ramon lost his patience and hit Jack hard across the face. "Enough, Jack," he shouted thinking Jack might now be playing him. "Who interrogated you? When and why?" He was less certain he was being played when Jack seemed to perk up only to roll quickly to the side of the bed and vomit onto the floor. He sagged there a few moments on his belly, his arm flopped limply over the edge of the bed, until he rolled back to where he'd been.

Jack felt more alert after he'd emptied his stomach again. Alert enough to know he'd fucked up and needed a story, but not clear enough to concoct a decent one on the spot.

"Two years ago," he mumbled, wiping at his face with his forearm.

_Two years?_ He thought the reports said he'd been thrown out of the army more than two years ago. His background check didn't note any jobs he'd picked up that would put him in a position to be interrogated. For now, Ramon let him continue, but he was slightly preoccupied with the discrepancy.

"…was captured. They wanted information…." Jack paused.

"Information?" Ramon pressed, wondering if Jack needed another 'hit' of motivation to keep going. But Jack's eyes were opened and he was looking at the ceiling in thought. Ramon suspected he'd be getting no further unconsidered responses.

"Yeah," Jack continued. "They wanted to know where something was." His eyes closed again. _Special Ops, terrorist cell_, he rehearsed.

Jack was saved from continuing by a knock on the door. "Ramon," Hector called, before walking in. "It stinks in here Ramon," he complained, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

Ramon looked irritated at the interruption and the comment. He was short with his brother. "What do you want Hector?"

"That phone call is coming through in thirty minutes. I'd thought you'd like to discuss what we are going to offer before we spoke with them."

Now Ramon was irritated with himself for forgetting…for letting Jack distract him from the work of the cartel. He looked at the sleeping figure next to him on the bed. Jack was out again. Maybe he would need to take a different approach with Jack to finish this. He was finished for today in any case.

"Heroin?" Hector asked, referring to why Jack was out.

"No, I gave him a barbiturate—not too different from the old fashioned truth serum."

"Get anything," Hector sniffed, "besides the contents of his stomach?"

"Maybe, maybe not. Jack and I aren't finished yet." He'd wanted to play a little more with his semi-comatose friend. But Hector's presence had ruined the mood and he had work to do.

Ramon stood and found the cuffs and this time attached Jack's left arm to the bed. He suspected Jack would be miserable enough in the morning without his bad wrist hurting.

Three days of a constant high were likely more than enough to get him hooked again—especially since he'd only quit weeks ago. By the time of their next session, Jack should be nicely in the throws of withdrawal. From now on, he'd have to earn his next fix.

"Hector," he said, taking his brother's arm and walking with him towards the door. "Have Tomas bring me the background check he put together on Jack for us. I need to do a little reading."

Jack and he were not anywhere close to being finished.


	4. Chapter 7 and 8

THE VAN, Public Forest, Midnight Sunday, real time

Sleep was just not happening. He listened jealously to Maria's even breaths next to him. He never slept well the night before a big mission and to think he'd be able to break that tradition in a rusted out van in the middle of a desert had been wishful thinking.

Instead of sleeping, he'd been thinking about some of the things Oscar had said about Jack.

Stories of what the locals had to endure at the hands of Salazar and his men were abundant in these towns. Jack had known some of them before he'd come down here. Back in LA, in CTU, they were just that, stories.

But here, in these few days, he'd seen the widows. A disproportionate number of men were missing fingers, or limbs, or even eyes. And once in a bar, in a hushed and dark corner, he'd been able to over hear the tale of a rape that had occurred recently in another town nearby. And not the rape of one woman, but many on the same night. He'd heard the word 'payment' in the same conversation before he'd had to move on when suspicious eyes had drifted his way.

What had Oscar said? _Jack did the dirty jobs. _ And he had implied that Jack had never said 'no.' What the fuck did that mean?

He wondered how much Jack had suspected he'd be involved in this kind of shit before he'd come down here. Jack had always walked into these missions seemingly knowing more, being more aware of what was involved than did everyone else. And he was skilled at concealing what he knew or suspected, especially if the higher ups, ie Chapelle, would balk at what might have to be done.

But maiming? Rape?

Could Jack have possibly still come down here if he suspected he'd be complicit in these sorts of things?

Tony's mind resisted taking the next leap in logic. If Salazar men perpetrated these atrocities, and Jack did the 'dirty work'…well, what kind of work would be dirtier? And if Ramon asked, and was refused, he'd be dead. As far as he knew, Jack wasn't dead. Therefore, he hadn't refused.

Tony damned his over active mind, laying guilt on his friend with no evidence. But, God, if he had…

But there was more to worry about. Punishment was one. He'd heard pain in Jack's voice more than once when he'd checked in.

They'd expected some test at the beginning, some initiation—and they hadn't been wrong. Jack had admitted he'd been hurt, although he had refused to give details, only saying he'd be okay in a week or two. Tony remembered how Jack had struggled through that conversation, his speech impaired by some facial injury he wouldn't talk about.

After that, if Tony was suspicious and asked, Jack had said he was fine. Now he knew from Oscar that many of those days he probably wasn't.

And then, he wondered, where was Jack now? Missing for two weeks, was he gone or was he hurt somewhere? If he'd left the ranch, Tony couldn't imagine a reason he hadn't checked in…unless he'd been killed. And if he was on the ranch, as Oscar suspected, he couldn't imagine a reason why that would be beneficial…or even neutral…to Jack's health.

All this added up to a wicked headache and a growing case of heartburn about what was going to come down six hours from now. It was obvious to Tony that Jack, even in the best case scenario, had sacrificed too much for this mission. If tomorrow didn't go well, he'd have done it in vain. Tony didn't want this mission to turn out like that for his friend.

He looked at his watch. Midnight. He had three hours to try and rest. Making his best effort to clear his mind and relax, he turned onto his side and closed his eyes. He tried to think about Michelle and how much he wanted to be home with her and out of this purgatory. He tried to believe he was home in bed with her and tomorrow was going to be just another day.

And he was almost successful before a loud knock resounded through the hollow cargo space. Flashlight beams broke through two separate windows. Maria was immediately awake and sitting beside him. _What the hell was this?_  
_  
_"Come out of there with your hands where we can see them."

THE SALAZAR RANCH, NINE DAYS BEFORE

This was one of Ramon's favorite tactics…pouncing on and overwhelming a man in his own bed before he was awake. The fear induced by the half sleep was better. Of course, Jack had been awake for several hours already, so it wasn't quite the same. He'd been watching.

As he had hoped and predicted, Jack had awoken shaking and perspiring. Intermittently he'd been wracked by cramps. Ramon had been patient, letting his miseries mount until he felt Jack had been ready.

He watched from the door as Tomas and Hector, for no one else knew where Jack really was, attacked quickly while Jack's eyes were closed. Silently, they threw a black hood over his head, released his bound arm and re-cuffed it in front of him to the one which had been free. Jack accepted his fate in silence as well, only an occasional grunt betraying his discomfort.

They roughly pulled him from the bed and led him past Ramon, who watched quietly. Not a man said a word until they reached the courtyard.

"On your knees," Hector ordered, feeling the fine tremor of Jack's taut muscles beneath his hand. Whether it was fear or the lack of the drug causing these tremors, Hector could not tell.

Jack fell to his knees, the dirt already warm and dry under the midday sun. Another cramp hit, and he bent at the waist to ride the pain out. There wasn't much else he could do. The symptoms had been there since he'd awoken. He barely remembered the night before. Ramon had given him something, but vaguely Jack recalled that it hadn't been heroin. He was hurting…just as Ramon had planned he assumed.

Ramon watched as Jack trembled under the hot sun. He hadn't bathed or changed in four days now and the boxers and white tee shirt were stained with dirt from the courtyard adhering to the damp cotton. They, the four of them, were alone in the yard; the men having been sent once again back to the far fields to train. But Jack did not know that.

Ramon spoke to his nonexistent audience, intending his words only for the man on the ground in front of him. Jack knew that final punishments, those that deserved no reprieve, were dealt out in front of the men. Every death in the courtyard served as a reminder to the others of their allegiance to Ramon and the cartel. He wanted Jack to think he was about to die a very unpleasant death.

"I know many of you…nearly all of you…respect Jack as your commander in arms. But Jack has lied to me. A lie that cannot be tolerated."

Jack heard the words. His mind raced. Ramon was acting as if he was going to kill him. But what had he lied about? Ramon wouldn't kill him for the lie at the raid. That had been a set up—punishable, yes, but not by death. He tried to calm down and clear his mind. Only bits and pieces of what had been said yesterday came back to him. What the fuck had he said?

"Jack," Ramon addressed him, "do you wish to defend yourself?"

He did want to know what he'd done or said. Even Ramon had to realize that anything said during a drug induced stupor was questionable. He would have liked to point that out. But he would not grovel in front of his men. So he said nothing.

Tomas and Hector exchanged glances. Most men would be begging for forgiveness already, fear motivating them to confess to sins they'd never even thought of, much less committed. Jack, by his brave yet foolhardy behavior, was begging for more punishment. Which Ramon would be all too happy to dole out. After all, that's the only reason they were out here sweating their asses off in this heat.

Jack felt the blade of Ramon's knife at his throat. "Jack?" he questioned softly, demanding some sort of response.

"Ramon," he began, forbidding himself from beginning with an apology or plea for forgiveness. The dark hood was absorbing heat and already feeling oppressive. "I don't know what I have lied about." Jack felt the tattoo throb on his arm. Not that she really hurt, but the Lady was reminding him of Ramon's purpose. He was to submit…and this was not submission.

Could he have groveled as Ramon wanted if they'd been alone? Was he that stubborn and proud that he wouldn't in front of the men even to save himself from being tortured to death by Ramon? On the other hand, he'd seen this before, groveling never accomplished anything. Again, he wondered what the fuck he'd said last night.

He felt the knife leave his neck and tear open the thin fabric of his shirt. The warm sun assailed his back as the damp shirt fell away. Ramon made a ceremony out of cutting the rest of it off his chest.

Ramon looked up at the hot sun and then down at Jack's perspiring naked back. Damn Jack. He was going to make him do this. Ramon's hand sweated on the handle of the crop in his hand. He'd only wanted to see Jack cave out here. Or to see if he still was too proud and stubborn, still too in control, to admit to a lie he might not even remember saying. Jack seemed not to be caving.

Ramon knew he'd been too groggy last night to have remembered most of what they'd talked about. But that discrepancy…he'd confirmed Jack had been dishonorably discharged just over two and a half years ago, about a year after he'd begun using, two after the death of his family. And six months _before_ the 'interrogation.' Ramon granted that the timeline was not off by that much, and Jack certainly wasn't thinking clearly when he'd said it, but he could use this as a focal point until he was satisfied one way or another.

Jack held still while he awaited Ramon's judgment. Ramon watched as he cringed slightly, fighting a cramp. Ramon would have liked to see Jack's face, but the hood was necessary for the rouse. He studied the whip in his hand. Not a powerful weapon. He had forgone using the heavy bull whip. He had a selfish reason for not wanting to mare Jack's body too much. But the multiple strips of leather that branched from the handle would cause plenty enough pain if they struck often enough and hard enough.

Without much more thought, he reared back and brought the whip hard across Jack's mid back. Jack, not having any visual or auditory warning, jolted at the sudden blow. Ramon heard him swallow a grunt of pain, the first guttural sound escaping with the surprise but the succeeding cry caught and suppressed. Ramon formed a wry smile at yet another show of Jack's more than impressive control. He knew the second blow with the whip would be met without movement or sound. He swung. He had been correct.

Studying Jack's now heavily perspiring back, he watched the welts from the two lashes swell and brighten under the heavy sunlight. A few marks from the first strike were outlined in small bright red beads of blood. He stopped to ponder his next move. He didn't want to beat Jack to a pulp, and that's what it would take to produce any reaction…if any even then…from this stubborn son of a whore. Jack was sure to figure out soon that he wasn't about to die.

He suddenly was very glad of the hood. With it, Ramon could at least keep him guessing as to what would happen next. But, to his dismay, Ramon suddenly realized that he didn't know what was going to happen next. And then he knew his mistake.

The men that met their death here were often little more than peasants…not thinking men. They groveled because fear overwhelmed thought. Jack was too smart—and even in the face of fear, he had reason. Jack knew that groveling would not stop his death. Begging would only make him die a coward. Submission was not needed if he was going to die anyway. He wouldn't lose face to earn himself only a slightly less gruesome death.

While the blows from the whip were not, in and of themselves, horrendously painful, the additive effect of the withdrawal, hunger, lack of water, the sun, and now the pain was taking its toll. Jack knew with the next lash he was going to have trouble staying upright. The muscles in his thighs were taught with fine tremors and felt as if any more effort, like fighting once again against the force coming down on his back, would send them into full spasm.

But the third lash did not come. Instead, he felt the fine tendrils of the leather stroking his stinging back. Then Ramon began to play the whip over his neck then down his chest. Jack was confused as Ramon used the weapon to almost…well…caress down his chest, over his bound arms, and down his abdomen. He bit his tongue from demanding to know what the hell Ramon was doing. This wasn't like anything he'd seen done before in this courtyard.

He listened hard, over the sound of the blood pounding in his ears. There was no sound of the shuffle of nervous feet or the inevitable clearing of throats as the men squirmed at having to watch another of them suffer. Ramon was putting on a show for him—and him alone. No, not a show, a test. Without meaning to, Jack relaxed slightly. He let his over fatigued muscles slacken which produced a visible slouch.

Ramon saw Jack relax. And while he knew Jack would have eventually, he was suddenly angry to be caught out in an act. He raised the whip high and came down hard on the front of Jack's boxers. There was no way even Jack was going to suppress the cry of pain from that surprise blow. And he didn't. Not only did he roar with the agony, he crashed hard to the ground, his bound hands barely breaking the harsh fall onto his face.

Ramon threw the whip aside. Circling slowly while Jack lay in pain, he watched as the yellow dust coated Jack's sweat soaked skin as he slowly writhed at his feet. Ramon aimed a kick at Jack's belly, which glanced off one of his forearms before landing hard against his mid section.

Sneering, he stalked away, followed by a baffled Tomas and Hector, who had done nothing but witness the strange session. When he reached the porch of the house, Ramon turned and looked at Jack, still and quiet and blind to what was happening around him. He'd soon be baking in the midday sun. _ Fuck him_, he thought as he turned and went into the house, somehow feeling the loser of that encounter, even though he wasn't the one lying helpless and miserable in the dirt.

Hector followed his brother towards his office. He knew to tread gently with Ramon's present mood. Waiting for Ramon to settle into his chair, he looked out the window. Jack hadn't moved. Hector wondered if he was afraid to or unconscious. Ramon would need to take better care of him if he intended on drawing out whatever the hell this was.

Hector had thought he'd known. He'd thought it was to beat a proud Jack into submission. But there had been no beating in that courtyard today when the submission had not come.

"Ramon," he said still watching Jack, "how long shall I leave him out there?"

There was no response. When he turned, Ramon was looking away from him, so he didn't realize his brother was already seething in anger.

"Claudia will be back tomorrow. If we keep Jack in the house, she will suspect something is going on." He paused. When no response came, he assumed Ramon was listening and went on.

"We could have her bring him food…take care of him." Hector, and he knew Tomas too, were sick of being Jack's caretakers. They both had work to do. Bringing Jack food and water, cleaning the mess, that was servants work. But Ramon had refused to let anyone else know where Jack was. But Claudia was going to find out anyway, why not have her help? He couldn't keep paying for the spa and shopping in Mexico City forever to keep her ignorant.

Ramon heard his brother speaking. And deep down, he knew Hector's points were valid. But he didn't want to hear it right now.

He spoke in anger without turning towards Hector. "You want your woman…" then he stopped and finished the sentence silently in his head,_ to take care of the man she's fucking when your back is turned?  
_  
Ramon didn't stop himself because he wasn't sure it was true. He had no proof, he was only keenly suspicious. He'd bitten back the sentence because he didn't want Hector to go out into the courtyard and kill Jack on the spot. Hector was a good brother, but he was only obedient to a point. He was a man and it would be well within his right to kill Jack if he was sleeping with Claudia.

But if anyone was going to kill Jack, it was Ramon. And personally, he was actually amused Jack had the balls to cuckold Hector. But not surprised.

He stood and faced Hector. He knew his anger was with Jack and calmed down enough before he took his fury out on his brother. "Leave," he ordered simply.

Hector looked at the floor then briefly at his brother, angry himself and hurt his brother would not discuss this with him…more than being Brigg's nursemaid…but what was going on in his head that had created that odd scene today. But he remained silent and turned to leave.

"Leave him out there another half hour. Let him wonder what's going on. Then clean him up, get some fluids in him, and put him back in bed. And I want him completely bound again." He almost apologized to Hector for being short and treating him like a servant, but bit it back. Instead, he turned and refocused his attention on the man in the courtyard. Jack rustled slightly and rolled from his side onto his back, surely trying to protect his damaged skin from the blazing sun.

This would not happen again tomorrow. He would know what he wanted and would plan better tomorrow.

8-

THE VAN, Public Forest, Sunday after Midnight, Real Time

There were only two of them, but they had Tony and Maria well covered—there hands against the side of the van, there feet spread wide, an ancient hand gun several feet from their heads. Upon seeing the flashlights, they'd immediately jumped towards their stowed guns, but they'd been too slow to react. One of them had been inside the van before either could be reached. They'd been hauled roughly out and frisked.

"What are you doing out here?" the short one with more stripes on his fraying uniform shirt asked.

The younger one, obviously lower in rank, rummaged through their belongings in the van.

"Sleeping," Tony answered simply, in as close to the colloquial local accent as possible.

The police officer, or ranger, or whatever the hell he was whipped him across his kidneys with the gun. Tony sagged briefly then straightened. Maria looked at him worriedly. They were in a bad spot. These men of the 'law' were obviously not the rule following sort. In fact, the smell of tequila seemed to waft from their pores.

They were obviously looking for drugs…and not a bag full of pot or a dime bag of heroin. These two would immediately assume they were runners from a rival cartel trespassing on Salazar turf. And even if they were found not to be carrying, it would be assumed they'd hidden the stuff. Why else would they be in the forest? Of course, that's why the police would even be here, rooting out that type.

Tony wondered whether Ramon Salazar liked his enemies alive or already dead when they were brought forth for the reward.

"Try again," he was ordered. The noise from inside the van stopped.

"We are just on the road. Her parents…they are not happy with me that she is pregnant. We are finding a new place to live." Tony tried to sound as scared and desperate as he could.

But his story lost credence as the younger officer appeared from the other side of the van with two federally issued handguns. Guns were one thing around here…just about everyone in the business carried one…but not like these.

If they were IDed as cops, their fate would be the same…no…probably worse. Ramon probably paid more for drug agents who were snooping around his territory and Tony was pretty sure he'd want them alive and he'd want information.

Maria looked at him again. He knew her thoughts were travelling the same path as his. They'd planned their covers in such detail…how could they have overlooked $500 Glocks as something that might stick out down here when carried by two near peasants?

"Her father must be a powerful man if you need such weapons to defend yourself from him." He laughed, and from the corner of his eye, Tony saw him stick his old weapon into his waistband. In an instant, he felt his very own gun on the back of his very own neck.

"Now, again…who are you and what are you doing in these woods?" he demanded in a low menacing growl, pushing the muzzle hard into Tony's skin.

Beside him, he heard the other man get close to Maria, but his head was turned away from her and he couldn't see if she had a gun on her as well.

Tony toyed with telling him the truth, but that was ridiculous. Even if it didn't get them killed, the fact there were two Federal agents nosing around would be far and wide by the morning and the raid would be jeopardized. He needed to continue the lie.

But Maria spoke first. "Senior," she said, calling everyone's attention to her, enough so Tony felt the gun removed from his neck and he was able to turn to see her.

Maria had changed from the ridiculous get up she'd been wearing in the bar, but she still, with the makeup and jewelry, could pass for a professional. And to add to the illusion, Tony saw her turn it on. _No Maria_, he wanted to say, stop her from a very dangerous gamble. But he didn't see another way out at this moment, so he had no choice but to go with her plan.

Maria made the offer—herself for each of them for their freedom. The older man struck Tony hard with the gun at his neck, stunning him and knocking him to his knees. He ordered the younger one to guard Tony as he grabbed Maria's arm and let her around the front of the van.

THE SALAZAR RANCH, 8 Days Before

When Ramon walked into the room, he was carrying a small briefcase. Jack looked up at him briefly and let his head fall back to the bed. This was the third time he'd been in since yesterday. Ramon had not said a word to him during any of the previous visits. He had granted Jack a hard stare and had given him his fix…a small one both times, barely enough to keep the withdrawal symptoms at bay.

Hector had also been in twice to force food and water on him and let him up to use the restroom. He remembered Hector and Tomas dragging him in yesterday. His back still stung from the whip, especially since he'd been tied up in four point restraints since yesterday, and forced to lie on the sensitive skin constantly. The moderately bad sunburn didn't help.

He couldn't remember how long he'd lain out there, but long enough to make him miserable and barely functional. But he did remember Hector extorting him to come to enough to take his own shower. And he did…the threatened violence and the idea of Hector bathing him had not been pleasant. One shower with Ramon in attendance and leering lasciviously had been bad enough. The pain of the water on his back had revived him enough to shower and shave and then drink something, though he couldn't eat until Ramon had given him something for the withdrawal.

Ramon approached the bed. The look on his face was unreadable and that made Jack very nervous. He'd been thinking about yesterday. He should have figured out the rouse sooner and given Ramon what he wanted. Then maybe he wouldn't be hovering so menacingly now. Then again, maybe he would. There was also that mysterious lie Ramon had referenced. If he had to bet, he would bet that whatever this was, that lie had something to do with it.

Still without speaking, Ramon put down the case and opened it away from Jack's line of vision. When he did turn around, he held a thin knife in his hand, really a blade with a handle. He walked to Jack and laid the blade at the edge of an old scar.

Jack flinched. _What the hell was he doing?_ He held off from asking. But instead of an explanation, Ramon cut along the path of the pale raised flesh. Jack groaned and felt the warm blood trickle down and over his right flank.

Ramon smelled fear as Jack tensed against the restraints and closed his eyes to wait for the pain to pass. The perspiration induced sheen that immediately coated his taut body was rather pleasing.

When he opened them, Jack's eyes were wide with confusion and apprehension, and staring directly into his own. Ramon smiled. This would go better than yesterday.

"Reminiscent of anything, Jack?" he asked, his voice with the light lilt of a knowing teacher asking a pupil a question he should know…but didn't because he hadn't done the homework.

"I'm sorry, Ramon, I don't understand." Jack was determined to play the game today. He needed off this bed and out of this room. Not only so he could do his job, but for his own sanity. He was tired of beginning each day wondering if he'd live through it.

Instead of answering, Ramon threw Jack a puzzled look. "You know Jack," he said, looking down at Jack's abdomen, not at his face. "When they did this to you before, you couldn't have been wearing much…if anything."

With that introduction, Ramon took the waistband of Jack's boxers and sliced through the elastic easily, continuing down until he came through the hem on his right leg. "No, these scars, they go down well below your belt." With that, he did the same on the other side.

Jack was breathing heavily, watching Ramon move that blade so swiftly so close to his crotch. And the implications of what he was saying, where his focus was today, were just beginning to come clear.

Ramon watched Jack's face as he grabbed the shredded garment and yanked it away. Jack rewarded him with the flinch he'd been aiming for at the sudden movement and sudden exposure.

Picking his head up, Jack examined the fresh wound, the blood staining the white sheet, and his old scars. "You mean the scars…how I got them?"

"Yes, Jack, the scars, how you got them." Ramon made a second cut in a lower scar. But not as deep and as long this time.

Jack hissed.

"Tell me again what happened."

Shit, he must have said something the other night. But there would have been nothing in his files about the interrogation. And certainly, in Special Ops, he would be at risk of capture and potential torture. Ramon would know that. So why was he so fascinated? There was no option but to play along and find out.

"I was captured on a mission and interrogated."

Ramon remained impassive. "What did they use? To make these cuts I mean?"

"A scalpel, I think."

Ramon examined his blade, as if making a mental comparison. Then he turned and discarded it into the briefcase. When he turned back, he had something new in his hand which he ignored as he spoke. Jack couldn't ignore the soldering iron…he remembered the pain acutely.

"Were you naked?"

Jack swallowed hard. Ramon noticed.

"Yes."

Jack wished Ramon would just inflict the pain. These questions were worse—admitting this stuff to Ramon. Back then he'd even covered up as much as he could when he'd been debriefed days later in the hospital, claiming amnesia from being unconscious so long. But somehow he knew answers such as 'I don't remember" were only going to prolong Ramon's game.

Ramon held the iron an inch from the old burn on his left flank. Jack could feel the heat.

"Were you tied down…as you are now?

"No," Jack told the truth. But that obviously wasn't enough as the iron made contact for a few seconds then was pulled back. Jack breath hitched at first then was very rapid as he rode out this new agonizing wave. He didn't wait for Ramon to explain…he knew what was being asked. Ramon wanted every humiliating detail.

"They tied my hands together…and…" God damn, this was hard. And Ramon's obvious satisfaction with where this was going made it that much harder.

"And what Jack," he asked, lowering the soldering iron so that just the proximity was painful.

"…and hung me from a ceiling beam."

Ramon tossed the iron into the case. He'd marred Jack enough. It was obvious the descriptions were more difficult for him than the pain.

"So there you were, naked, dangling from the ceiling. Fascinating."

Jack knew Ramon was just trying to humiliate him, but even knowing that didn't make it any easier. He felt his face burning.

"How long?"

"Half an hour…maybe more…I'm not sure."

Ramon studied the scars. "That's a lot of pain, Jack," he paused for effect. "Did you talk?"

"No."

"I'm sure you didn't," Ramon smiled condescendingly at him, even belittling the un-embarrassing part of the ordeal.

"Did you scream?"

Jack closed his eyes. "Eventually…yes." Ramon didn't need to know about the gag.

"But you didn't beg, did you Jack? You're too proud to beg…or give in." Ramon could see Jack hanging there, naked, fighting not to scream. His eyes glance up at the ceiling in the bedroom…no beam…unfortunate.

Jack kept his eyes closed and said nothing. There was no answer to that question that would satisfy Ramon.

Ramon decided that asking what they wanted to know was worthless. He didn't care anyway. This was about Jack, not his torturers. He stood and went to the case, fumbled around deliberately, then pulled out the taser and placed it well within Jack's field of vision. Then he went to the bathroom, closed the door and just waited, letting Jack sweat it out.

But Ramon had no idea how effective, how much anxiety, this ploy would have. He didn't know the whole story yet. But Jack did. And his heart raced at the sight of the taser. His waking premonition about his daily flirtation with death seemed much closer to reality.

When Ramon came out of the bathroom, Jack debated just telling him what had happened. But that would be admitting a huge weakness that maybe he could avoid. Maybe Ramon wouldn't use it.

"Don't like tasers Jack?" he smiled maliciously seeing Jack's anxiety. "I bet not," he added, gently running his finger over one of the burns from the contact. "Those bastards didn't play fair, did they?"

Ramon stared into Jack's face and lowered the weapon, jolting Jack with a very low setting. Jack swallowed hard not to yell out…not with pain, but with fear. He was sweating profusely. They had started out on a low setting that day too.

"Well, neither do I," Ramon said before administering a second jolt, more powerful this time.

Jack held his breath and couldn't stifle a small cry deep in his throat. His heart skipped a beat. Any stress could do that, but what Ramon was doing was making him conscious of every abnormal hitch in its rhythm.

Jack could remain silent no longer. "Please, Ramon, tell me what you want," he almost begged. If Ramon was torturing him for information, threatening to kill him, well that was one thing. But dying while he toyed with him, Ramon oblivious to the danger, just seemed ridiculous. That's what was causing the fear—that kind of death was just stupid.

"So you're hanging there, screaming, in pain, bleeding, but you didn't tell them anything—so how did you get out?"

Jack hesitated, trying to come up with a story. Ramon didn't like that and raised the taser.

"Wait," Jack pleaded. "Wait."

This was fascinating. Jack was so breathless with anxiety he could hardly speak. He'd never seen Jack like this.

At his initiation, they'd punished him far worse than this, had inflicted far more pain. And Jack had borne it all stoically. In fact, better than anyone he'd ever seen. Because of that, Ramon had let the ritual go on longer than usual, and Jack had been hurt more than he'd meant him to be. That was the first time he'd been intrigued by this man.

He let the hand with the taser fall to the side.

"My heart stopped."

"What?" asked Ramon, sure he had heard wrong.

"The taser settings were too high. He got angry and used it too high," Jack was talking quickly to keep Ramon from re-raising his hand. "It caused my heart to beat abnormally, too quickly, and then, eventually stop." There, it was out—the explanation the doctors had given him days later.

"You died?"

For some reason Ramon looked up and down Jack's naked body, as if reassuring himself he was solid. It made Jack more uncomfortable, as if that was possible. "Yes, for a short time," he ignored Ramon's gaze and continued. "But they revived me. They…they had a doctor at the facility…a clinic."

Ramon was slightly incredulous. "The whole story now, Jack, or I use it again," he said, impatient of having to mine for each detail of the saga.

Jack took a deep breath before he spoke. "I think they did CPR. They had a defibrillator. It worked." Ramon was looking at him skeptically. "Ramon, look at my chest closely…there are paddle burns from when they revived me."

Ramon did. Under the thick blond hair high on Jack's chest were several faint rectangular burns…unnoticeable unless you looked hard. "Alright, go on." He was slightly more convinced.

Now Jack could lie a bit. If he told Ramon about the drug, the bastard would probably be curious enough to find it and use it on him. This was fucked up enough, reliving this nightmare. "They got me stable…were getting ready to do more."

Ramon interrupted. "They killed you, brought you back, and still were going to torture you some more? My, Jack, they _were_ heartless bastards," he said with an amused lilt.

Jack heard the begrudging respect for his torturers in Ramon's last sentence. _You're a sick bastard yourself, Ramon._ He continued. "They left me alone with the doctor…left to talk or do something. I had enough time. I pretended to pass out again, when he came near, I over powered him and slipped out. My unit…they were on the periphery of the camp trying to find me. They got me out."

"That's quite a tale Jack," Ramon said, raising the weapon again and laying the prongs on Jack's throat. The fear in Jack's eyes made Ramon think Jack was telling the truth. "So you, Jack Briggs, are afraid of tasers. I believe the story, but that…fear…of pain? You?"

"The truth is, Ramon," Jack had tried, but couldn't avoid it. Ramon would be able to hang this over his head, use it whenever convenient, but he had no choice. He had to keep him from pressing that button again. "The truth is, all that…the shocks, the CPR, the defibrillation, it damaged my heart. You could kill me with that, even on low settings."

Ramon smiled a genuine smile. Another weakness…first his family, and now this. He was enjoying getting to know Jack.

He gloated a moment and then remembered the original purpose of this game-the lie.

"So Jack," he said casually, "when did all this happen? I assume you've had sufficient time for recovery."

"About three, no closer to four, years ago, just before I started using," he answered quickly without hesitation.

That answer directly correlated with the time line in the paper work.

Ramon wasn't quite sure what to make of the discrepancy in the two reportings. Certainly the first was more suspect, seeing as Jack was drugged at the time. And that's certainly how he would defend himself. On the other and, Jack, if a skilled liar, might have told the truth under the influence of the drug and was now think straight enough to remember properly. He didn't bother asking. He'd gotten plenty from this session even if he wasn't quite satisfied about the previous error…or lie.

Jack tensed as Ramon ran the taser hard down his neck and over his chest, watching him hold his breath in anxious anticipation of what he might do—like play Russian roulette with his life with that fucking taser. But as he continued down, the touch of the prongs became lighter. When Ramon reached his groin, he grazed over his penis and testicles with the weapon—not painfully, but playfully.

Jack watched Ramon as he stopped there and studied him, Ramon's eyes riveted on Jack's privates. Then he swung his eyes to Jack's face. Jack felt his skin flushing and burning again when he saw the leer in Ramon's features, the sexual threat was unmistakable. _No, he wouldn't, Ramon Salazar doesn't do that, not to a man. _ But he wasn't sure. That was the trouble with Ramon…you could never be sure.

Ramon swung the taser away suddenly. Not a word passed between them as Ramon prepared Jack's dose and injected him. The high was good. He must have pleased Ramon today to have earned this. He was sure he had.

He let the drug take him away from the room and Ramon and the uncomfortable threat. Vaguely, he felt his arms and legs set free. In a daze, he luxuriated in being able to move freely again. The heroin dulled the pain and stiffness in his joints and muscles. The sting on his back disappeared and he no longer felt the pain of the small new wounds Ramon had inflicted. He wasn't aware that he moaned softly in relief.

For his part, Ramon watched as the drug took Jack. He never tired of watching the effect it had on him…to see the tension leave his body, the look of partial bliss, the obliviousness cross his face. He smiled as Jack stretched cat like in his nakedness when he freed him.

Moving his hand forward, he brushed the back of it against where the taser had just been. Jack moaned. Ramon wasn't naïve enough to think he'd induced the sound with that light touch. Jack's penis hadn't reacted. But he was hopeful that soon that would change.

Claudia had just come through the front door as Ramon brushed passed her.

"Welcome back, Claudia," he greeted.

Ramon was smiling. The greeting was actually light hearted. Any greeting from Ramon to her was a surprise, so this was a downright miracle. But Claudia wasn't stupid. Hector had sent her away from the ranch for a reason. And most likely, he'd exiled her at Ramon's bequest. Immediately, she intuited that Ramon was up to something. She planned to steer clear of him until she knew it was safe.

"Thank you, Ramon," she replied politely before directing one of the men to put her luggage in her and Hector's bedroom.

By the time she'd reached the room herself and undressed, she'd left thoughts of Ramon far behind. As she stepped into the shower, her mind turned to Jack. Mexico City had been nice. But she had been lonely, and even she could only spend so much of Hector's money.

Her mind had been preoccupied with ridiculous fantasies of having this time with Jack…of making love in the large, soft bed, of dinners in the exclusive restaurants, and days spent wandering the streets and talking. It was a silly school girlish dream, but nonetheless, she'd dreamt it.

She desperately wanted to see him tonight. With Hector home there was little chance of being with him, but even just seeing him would settle the anxious anticipation she'd had all the way home.

After her shower, she dressed quickly in something new and expensive. Something Hector would overlook, but would be sure to catch Jack's eye. He was so good at that, at paying attention to the small things that made her happy. She imagined his hand on the silky bodice, or even better, slipping up her thigh beneath the soft folds of the skirt. Dios, how much she wanted him.

Absently, she wondered if there was any way she could make Ramon think it was a good idea…his idea…to invite Jack to dinner tonight in the main house. 


	5. Chapter 9 and 10

Chapter 9 and 10

Author's Note: This is really NC-17 for very implied m/f sex. There is a longer, very R/adult rated version on my website 24nmore(dot)com if you are interested.

THE SALAZAR RANCH, 6 Days before the planned raid.

Soft lips met his. He parted them to let her tongue dart in, her taste tantalizing. His hands rose to cradle her head, but instead, clumsily, found their way to her hips. But he was still content with where they had landed, her skin warm and soft under his palms.

"Wake up, baby," she cajoled.

Jack opened his eyes; a bit surprised he'd been asleep, only dreaming her. But when he saw her face staring down at him, only inches from his own, he realized he had indeed been asleep, but the woman was no dream.

She was beautiful. Her hair, a deep shade of brown, fell down around her shoulders. The color of her eyes was an exotic greenish brown and they seemed to glow as she looked at him. And her golden skin was uncovered by any garment. But as beautiful as she was, she shouldn't have been there.

He started and tried to sit up, trying to make sense of where he was and why she was on him, straddling him.

But she was quick. She laughed softly and gently pinned his arms to the bed. In his confusion, he let her. He laid back. The room was the same, he hadn't been moved. The last few days, however many it had been, were a reality. The pains he'd fallen asleep with after a small fix last night were still there. Only the girl was different.

"What's going on?" he asked, slightly annoyed with her quixotic grin. He didn't appreciate her enjoying his confusion. And he didn't like being confused. He tried to sit up again.

"You need to relax, Jack," she ordered. "Mr. Salazar won't be happy if I let you get away."

_Ramon? What the fuck?___

"I can't relax if I don't know what the fuck is going on," he said gruffly.

"Do you start off with all your women this way?" she asked playfully, unperturbed by his upset.

"My women?" he asked.

"I'm yours for the day," she explained, letting go of his arms and sitting up. Jack could not ignore her bottom as it brushed against his belly. She thrust out her breasts, as if for consideration…for back up if her mere presence and nakedness atop him were not enough to entice him.

It was…enough to entice him. He was coming to life under her backside unbidden. She noticed, smiled, and slipped down to his thighs so she could take him in her hand. Jack closed his eyes and let his head back. She was distracting him from being annoyed.

"Please, stop," he ordered, regaining control with difficulty. He'd been miserable for what seemed like forever. What she was doing was the opposite of miserable. But obviously this was some ploy of Ramon's, and he knew better than to want any part of it…despite the part of him she was holding wanting it.

"I can't," she said, continuing to fondle him.

Jack sat up quickly, more quickly than her this time, and gently pushed her off his thighs. "Yes, you can," he said coldly. He rolled to the side of the bed, planning a retreat to the bathroom to think.

As his bare feet hit the floor, Ramon materialized from the bathroom, just where he'd been heading. Jack froze. Ramon had been watching all this.

Jack was angry and embarrassed at once. But Ramon's 'lessons' had not been in vain. He swallowed his emotion and immediately lowered his eyes, lest Ramon see the anger there. Another day, another game in Ramon's perverted quest for his submission. And 'perversion' seemed to be an aptly appropriate word for today's round.

"Where are you going, Jack?" he asked coldly. "I left you untied, and now you take advantage of me? And you are rude to your guest?"

_What the fuck was he supposed to say? _

"I'm…" he didn't want to blurt an apology again. "I'm unclear what this is about Ramon."

Ramon chuckled. "There's a beautiful, naked woman in your bed and you are unsure?"

_Well, you are also in the room-where I've been confined for days being abused and drugged. Not your typical bedchamber.__  
_  
"You don't like her?" Ramon asked, eyeing the girl lasciviously.

Jack turned to look at her. His initial impressions had been right. She was gorgeous, exotic looking, with a perfect body. She sat impassive, regarding both men, waiting to do their bidding. Ramon had spent a lot for this one.

"She's beautiful, Ramon," he granted. What Ramon wanted was obvious. He wanted to watch. Maybe he should just be relieved that it hadn't been Ramon who he'd awoken to in his bed, on top of him. Ramon's suggestive actions from yesterday had been playing through his mind all night and had him slightly worried. Maybe this was a good sign that he'd been imagining things.

But could he perform for Ramon? The thought disgusted him. He had avoided the women Ramon provided to the men as much as he could. He knew Ramon had been annoyed when he did not take advantage of his 'gifts.' So, a few times, he had slept with one of them to pacify him. The sex had been drunken and perfunctory…but at least it had been private.

He would have been worried about the effect of the heroin on his libido, but she had already proven that, as of yet, he was still okay. One time, with Claudia, he'd not been. Another reason he had quit.

Ramon said nothing but stared him down. Jack lowered his eyes and knew he had no choice. He swung his feet back onto the bed and laid back. He closed his eyes when her soft hand fell to his chest in an instant.

"The only rule, Jack," Ramon said in voice that sounded far away, "is that you do everything she says…obey her as you would me."

The last words were barely audible, but they sounded like a claxon in Jack's ears. _Oh, God_, thought Jack, _I can't do this_. His mouth went dry as she took his now limp penis into her hand. He imagined Ramon's eyes on him. Was Ramon enjoying his discomfort…or worse, was he turned on? Jack felt nauseous.

Ramon settled deeply back into the chair in the corner. With his foot, he pulled over a stiff wooden desk chair and set his feet upon it, his ankles crossed in comfort. The bright afternoon sun was dampened into an orange-grey hue by the barely cracked shutters. Dust danced in a single strong ray that broke through one crack and fell onto the foot of the bed. The room was not dark. Jack and the girl were clearly visible in the odd cast of light that had been created. Jack's tension, the quiet, and the light created an engaging scene before him that he could not help but enjoy.

RAID BASE CAMP, 5AM Real time

"Where the fuck are they?" Ryan Chapelle ranted, slamming his phone shut so hard it would be a miracle if the thing ever worked again.

"They'll be here," Chase assured, covering his own anxiety.

This mission had been planned down to the detail. And already they were having trouble. First, the local police were showing up in dribs and drabs. They'd not even notified them of the raid until six hours ago, and then only a few trusted supervisors. Any more time and any more people would assure that Salazar would be warned.

But now that meant they weren't organized…hell, a third of them weren't even present. They'd cut all communication to the compound and they'd had a wide perimeter control in place all night—so at least the ones that weren't here weren't calling their amigo Ramon either.

So he had enough on his hands trying to herd all these forces into a cohesive unit. Tony and Maria were to be responsible for collecting all the central players after the compound was secured. Making sure Ramon and Hector didn't sneak out wasn't a small task. Chase would be surprised if the cartel leaders didn't have escape plans.

And he hoped that keeping Jack alive once the raid began wasn't an issue. Jack's indeterminate status was a concern. If he was under guard because Ramon was suspicious, the beginning of a raid might tip the scales toward execution.

Fifteen minutes passed by. The raid was to begin in 30 minutes. Off in the distance one last dilapidated local police car limped toward the staging area. Chase rolled his eyes in annoyance. Why bother at this point? He had just finished organizing and assigning positions to enough relatively untrained and relatively unenthusiastic locals.

Grabbing a bottle of water, Chase took a moment to rest and awaited the arrival of his last reinforcements. The first policeman to emerge from the car was wearing handcuffs. So was the second. Chase couldn't help a grin when Maria Lopez stepped out behind them, looking more like a street walker from East LA than a CTU agent. She appeared a little disheveled but unhurt. Behind her, Tony leaned against the driver's side roof, in obvious need of a shave and some sleep. He wouldn't be getting either any time soon.

Maria guided the hapless prisoners/police towards him and gladly handed them off to one of the Mexican federal officers who had walked over. She rattled off a list of charges. "Illegal search and seizure, assault and battery…and solicitation."

Chase smiled wide at the last charge. She'd obviously played her part too well.

Maria walked past him without pausing. "Don't say a fucking word," she warned irritably. "And please tell me you brought down the clothes I asked for."

Rather than risk the smart ass answer he had on the tip of his tongue, he pointed towards the truck where she could find her things. Although if she stayed in that outfit, she'd provide a decent distraction to the other side during the raid. Tony walked over.

"You okay?" Chase asked.

"Yeah, fine."

"What happened?"

Tony tiredly shook his head. He needed a quick cup of coffee and a few minutes to put himself into the mindset for the battle ahead. "It's a long story—some other time. But that Maria, damn she's good." He looked around him at the units formed and ready for deployment. "Are we ready?"

"Now we are," assured Chase. "Let's go find Jack."

Chapter 10

SALAZAR RANCH, 5 days before raid

"Maybe you should end this, Ramon," Hector ventured, even though for the last two days his brother had been irritable and demanding, he risked the suggestion.

"Maybe you should mind your own business, little brother," Ramon snapped.

"It is my business, Ramon," Hector snapped back, annoyed that Ramon felt it necessary to remind him who was in charge. "Two weeks. That's all the time we have to get ready. We will have powerful and rich men here who will be trusting us to carry out their business for them. If we do this right, we will make more money than ever before."

Ramon glared, but was listening. Ramon hadn't been doing much of anything the last two days except appear distracted and distant. He hadn't even been tormenting Jack since the day before yesterday. He'd been in there a couple of times, but not for long. Jack was up and about, still a prisoner in the room, but unrestrained.

But now that he thought about it, Jack was as edgy as Ramon. Much of that was the drug…or the need of the drug. Ramon had been very stingy with the doses. But it was more that the addiction. He was a caged animal, pacing anxiously, itching for freedom.

They were both stubborn asses.

But the business of the cartel should come first. And for that, both of them needed to be working on this deal and the upcoming meeting. Or at least Ramon.

"What are you going to do…with Jack I mean. Christ, it has been nine days. The men are growing wary about this 'trip' he's been on. They are restless and yesterday's training…fuck, it was almost a disaster. One of the men almost blew himself up mishandling an explosive. Tomas is doing the best he can, but…"

"But he's no fucking Jack Briggs," Ramon interrupted angrily. "Is that what you are trying to tell me? That I need him to run my fucking cartel? Is that it Hector? You've decided?"

Hector knew it was time to retreat. "No, Ramon," he said evenly. "That is your decision. But the cartel at least needs its leader…and that is you. I need you," he added obsequiously, playing to his brother's ego.

There was a quiet pause as Hector waited for Ramon to think.

Ramon knew his brother was right. He'd let this thing with Jack go on too long. Mostly because he was still undecided. Jack had played along as much as could be expected. And despite the anger Ramon knew he felt, he believed he had Jack's loyalty.

Of course he was cooperating because of the threat to his life. But Ramon had experience in these matters. He knew when men were just afraid and feigning loyalty and when they were angry that their true loyalty was being questioned. Jack was the latter, that, at least, he'd come to learn.

He'd let the discrepancy about the 'interrogation' go. He would not know for sure. The detail was sufficient as a focal point for pushing Jack, but not enough to kill him over. After the other day, with the girl, Ramon had needed time to step back and think. And he'd needed distance to control himself.

When he'd gone in to give Jack his fix since that afternoon with the girl, his mind had been consumed with images of she had done. Jack hadn't said a word about it. And he hadn't acted any differently…until Ramon had touched him. Of course, Ramon had grazed Jack's arm unnecessarily when he'd pushed back Jack's shirtsleeve. The contact had been suggestive, but minor. Nevertheless, Jack had stiffened briefly then tried to cover his reaction.

Ramon's first impulse was to slap him, throw him to the bed, and really _touch_ him. But that would ruin all the work he'd done up to this point…to make Jack see. He'd spent the last day contemplating whether he'd done enough, not wanting to let Jack free too early, making sure he'd done all he could…not rushing and wasting the effort thus far.

Hector was right, this needed to end. But in the back of his mind, he wasn't ready. Jack wasn't ready.

Ramon rose from his desk and stood next to Hector. "You are right, Hector," he admitted. "I will make a decision about Jack in the morning."

There was a tentative knock at the open office door. Claudia stood there looking beautiful. Hector was glad she'd had time away; it had been good for her.

"Dinner is ready," she announced, looking at Ramon then at Hector. She smiled when Hector smiled at her. Ramon's dark eyes stayed on her, but she couldn't read his expression. He'd been almost creepy around her the last day or so. No matter how long she was on this ranch, she doubted she'd ever figure that man out.

Hector was so much simpler. A good man deep down, very deep down, who had been corrupted by the family he'd been born into. At first, she'd seen only the good man. That he was also marred by the gene that carried the Salazar temper—she'd discovered that too late. And he wasn't as clever as his elder brother. All things combined, he was the perfect sidekick for Ramon.

"Thank you, Claudia, we'll be right there," Hector said politely.

She turned and left them to their business. The house had a strange feeling since she'd been back from her trip. Hector had been busier than usual and Ramon had been moping around. She'd seen both of them hanging around the rarely used guest wing on the far side of the house.

Under the context of offering help, she'd asked what was going on, if they needed her to do anything for them. Hector had told her they were just getting ready for the meeting and the important guests who were to arrive before the end of the month. This is what she had suspected—she'd heard there was to be a big business meeting here; still, there was Ramon's mood. And Ramon was helping prepare living quarters? Not likely. And if that's what they were doing, why couldn't she be of use?

She was still curious, but had learned that a little curiosity around here could get you into deep trouble. And she wasn't that curious. Plus, she was already flirting with enough danger carrying on this liaison with Jack.

She'd been asking around. Oscar had been in the house the other day, sorting and filing for Tomas. She knew the boy liked Jack. She'd seen him follow Jack like a puppy a few times around the courtyard. In a sense, they seemed two of a kind, but if asked to, she couldn't put into words why the two of them fit each other-except that neither of seemed to fit on the ranch.

From him she'd learned Jack had been gone for over a week. He'd left around the same time as she had. The long absence had made her nervous. But no one had suggested anything untoward. Still, there had been that strained conversation in the kitchen the last night she'd seen him. Jack had been nervous and Ramon had been giddy. She'd been unsettled since she'd recalled that night and the odd sense of danger she'd had at Jack's unease.

Claudia had just finished setting the table when the two men arrived. "Will anyone else be joining us tonight?" she asked innocently. Often Tomas or one of the local town officials would arrive for dinner when there was business to conduct. It was a fairly common occurrence.

"Jack won't be, if that's who you mean," Ramon snapped.

Claudia was taken aback. She hadn't said a word to Ramon the other night about Jack. There had been no subtle way to get him invited and then she'd soon found out that he wasn't home that night. Only later did she learn he hadn't been here for many nights.

Ramon was eyeing her uncomfortably. Hector was oblivious, opening a bottle of wine for them. "No, Ramon," she said calmly, "I didn't mean Jack. He's not even home." She turned away to bring the food to the table. And to hide her upset that Ramon had targeted Jack. Was he suspicious? Her heart leapt to her throat. She was only calmed by the fact that if Ramon knew, Hector would know, and she would be dead.

Nonchalantly, she continued the conversation as she sat down. Maybe he'd be less suspicious if she spoke of Jack openly. "But, I've heard he's been gone a while. May I ask where he is?" She took a bite of her dinner to feign nonchalance.

Neither brother answered right away. Instead, they glanced at each other. Claudia still thought she was safe, again, if they'd killed Jack because he'd slept with her, they would have told her by now. But something was up. She was afraid for Jack.

"No, you may not," Ramon answered curtly.

_He's in a fine mood tonight_ Claudia thought sarcastically. But she wasn't put off. Ramon was curt to her most of the time. She was quite used to it. And she was fine with it. She'd seen how he was with women…callous and possessive…and was very glad to tolerate his tongue as long as she didn't have to tolerate his hands on her. And he had never. At least he respected Hector that much.

The rest of dinner was silent. The lack of conversation afforded her the time to study Hector and Ramon. There was something between them tonight. But of the two, Ramon was by far the most agitated. He'd made quick work of a bottle of wine on his own and was soon up finding and opening another.

She would clean up quickly tonight and disappear. Hector would come to her when he was ready. She did not need to hang around worrying when and if Ramon, even more dangerous drunk, would snap. Hector was used to being the lighting rod. She was not.

The men rose and headed outside to smoke in the much cooler evening air. She heard a bottle clank as it was removed from the living room liquor cabinet on their way out. One of them spoke, the other chuckled in return and gave her hope that all would be calm.

When she finished the dishes she went to the living room and looked out onto the porch. She overheard snippets of calm conversation and saw them each with a glass in their hands. Maybe Ramon was better now, with the drink and Hector working to calm him. After all, that's what Hector was did best…it's what he'd been doing most of his life.

She didn't interrupt. When a cool and comfortable evening breeze blew through the screen, she turned and headed to her room to change and enjoy the evening on her own balcony-while she waited for Hector and wished for Jack.

Jack, jailed on the other side of the house, also stared out the window. He'd watched the sunset for the second day in a row. And for the second day in a row had sat bored and confused in his well appointed jail cell.

Since the whore, Ramon had been in a few times. He hadn't spoken of what had happened. Jack had been relieved at that. And relieved that, thus far, Ramon hadn't touched him. He'd begun to think that maybe he'd overreacted…read too much into the look Ramon had given him and they way Ramon had touched him several times. Maybe Ramon was just trying to intimidate him, using sex as a threat. Maybe the girl and Ramon's voyeurism had been the finale.

Since then, Jack hadn't been restrained. And twice, when he'd come in to give him his fix, Ramon had actually chatted for a few minutes…about business-and not about the drug business.

Ramon had, much to Jack's surprised, brought up the cartel's new venture. Jack's heart had pounded in his chest as Ramon had casually mentioned an approaching meeting. He had queried Jack about weapons, training, and money. The questions had been general, but for the first time with Jack, Ramon had openly shown his hand regarding the cartel's terrorist involvement.

All Jack's other knowledge…what groups were involved, arms, money…he'd gleaned from clandestine forays into the cartel's records. The risk he'd taken breaking into the encrypted files had been huge, but had been spurred by his frustration and ignorance.

During the conversations, he'd had to work hard to show the appropriate level of curiosity and surprise at the information Ramon had just dropped into his lap. He had to cover his excitement that this door had finally opened-that maybe he had survived and succeeded this sick and odd test Ramon had thrown in his path.

Ramon was bringing him into the loop. This is what he'd been waiting for. All he had to do was get out of this damn room and back to work and prove to Ramon how invaluable he could be in his dealings with the terror groups. Fucking Ramon had to let him out soon. He'd spent his hours calculating how to speed his own release without irritating Ramon any further and extending his sentence.

As the room darkened, Jack didn't bother turning on the lights. He stood at the window and watched until the moon rose then turned away. He flopped onto the bed fully dressed. His bored mind wandered until thoughts of Claudia appeared and took root. He briefly wondered if she had any idea this was happening to him, what Ramon was doing.

Then he longed for her body. But thoughts of sex brought him immediately back to the other day. His face flushed at the memory of what the girl had done to him and how his body had reacted-and how Ramon had been there to see every detail. He turned on his side and buried his head in his pillow and tried to sleep, wishing he could have a fix…a decent dose that would make him high and make him forget.

He must have dozed off, because when the lights snapped on, he startled awake to see Ramon standing at the end of the bed. It was too early for his next fix. Suddenly Jack was uneasy.

Ramon smiled strangely and walked around the side of the bed—unsteadily. It was then that Jack noticed the partially empty bottle in his hand. Ramon was drunk, very drunk. Ramon very rarely got drunk. In fact, in all the times Jack had seen him drink and indulge in an endless variety of drugs, he'd never seen Ramon wasted…as he was now.

Jack sat up against the headboard when Ramon plopped heavily on the edge of the large bed without a word. He obediently took a swig from the bottle when Ramon's unsteady hand thrust it toward him. Ramon pulled one leg up onto the bed so he could turn and look at Jack. Jack took another draught, needing it this time, before Ramon demanded the bottle back with only a gesture. He managed to down the rest of the bottle without his eyes ever leaving Jack.

"Take your shirt off," Ramon ordered.

Jack swallowed hard, gulping down the protest that was on the tip of his tongue. With Ramon hammered like this, did he have a better chance of talking him out of this, or were his chances worse? Was Ramon's temper fueled or dampened by the drink? Because he'd never seen Ramon like this, he just didn't know what kind of risk he could take here.

So he obeyed.

Ramon's hand reached out and stroked his chest. Jack wondered if he could see and feel his heart pounding under his skin. Jack closed his eyes and wished Ramon's hand away. His own hands clutched at the sheet to keep from forcing Ramon off him. In his mind, visions of killing Ramon and possible escapes off the ranch played in an endless reel. Unfortunately, each loop ended with a different version of his death just before the next playback. He'd never make it back to the border. There was no where to hide for a twenty kilometer radius in this barren wasteland.

Because his eyes were closed, he didn't know Ramon had leaned in until he felt his lips on his. Jack's stomach tightened. He smelled the drink and tasted Ramon's expensive cigars. Much to his surprise, Ramon was gentle and didn't force himself in. His face lingered there as his hand dropped down to the button on Jack's jeans. Jack kept his eyes slammed shut; knowing opening them meant staring straight into Ramon's face.

Ramon deftly, without seeing, undid his button and fly and slipped his hand under Jack's waistband. As much as he tried not to, Jack finally tensed and made a half hearted effort to pull away, wanting to badly, but knowing that's not what the man in control wanted.

When he opened his eyes, Ramon's lips were gone. He was sitting up and looking at where his hand disappeared into Jack's pants. Ramon hadn't reacted to his weak attempt to shake him off and his hand hadn't advanced to really touch him yet.

Jack watched as Ramon, by raising his arm, managed to push his waistband down a couple of inches into his open fly. His hand reappeared. Ramon ran his finger around the small cut's and burn mark he'd made the other day and had just exposed. Jack breathed so hard in both mild relief and continued anxiety that a small sound escaped.

"You don't want me to touch you," Ramon said softly with a small smile. He was still watching his own hand on Jack's belly.

Jack said nothing. The truth would likely get him hurt.

"The girl…she touched you…very intimately. You liked it." Ramon swayed a little as he sat there. His words were slow as his drunken brain had to work to form them.

That wasn't exactly true. He would have never chosen that-his body had responded, that's all.

"She's a woman, Ramon," Jack responded simply, without challenge, "and not my employer."

Ramon chuckled. "Pleasure is pleasure, Jack," he said, "doesn't matter who it comes from."

"It does to me," Jack snapped back, knowing that defending himself was stupid, especially since Ramon was so drunk, logic or argument was a waste of time.

"Because…because that way you stay…in charge, right Jack?"

There it was again. Did Ramon want to do this to him just to show him he was in charge? Or did he really want him sexually?

"You're in charge, Ramon. I know that. I know that well. I did before all this."

"Did you Jack?" Ramon smirked.

For being drunk, Ramon was remarkably quick with the comeback. The son of a bitch never failed to surprise him. That's what made him so fucking dangerous.

Ramon's hand finally came off him. He fumbled clumsily in his shirt pocket. Jack saw by the sag in the light fabric that there was a small vial and syringe in there.

"But it was a nice try, Jack. Gotta admit…nice try. Not going to work…" Ramon was essentially mumbling to himself as he tried to ignore his drunkenness and fill the syringe. Jack saw him squint his eyes to clear them.

"Ramon," Jack said, "I don't need much. You were just in here a few hours ago." He really didn't want any. He was a little afraid of just why Ramon was doing this and what might happen if he was out stoned.

"Aw, come on Jack," Ramon teased, "you know I've been stingy. Don't you think you deserve a good high?"

Jack wanted a good high, but right now he didn't quite trust Ramon.

Ramon saw his hesitation and darkened quickly. "Give me your arm, Jack," he ordered.

Jack did as ordered. He watched anxiously as Ramon fumbled with a task he normally did quickly and skillfully. "Ramon, let me do it myself this time," he said without thinking.

He wasn't sure what Ramon did exactly, but the pain in his arm was intense. He closed his eyes and waited for the pain to pass.

"Shut the fuck up," Ramon growled. "You know how this works."

With that, Jack felt the familiar prick on his arm. He opened his eyes just in time to notice where the plunger was set before Ramon's thumb pressed it down quickly. The white plastic handle had been pulled back way too far.

"Fuck, no Ramon," he shouted and jerked his arm back. But it was too late. The dose was in and there was no sucking the venom back out. "Fuck," he whimpered as the room went black way too quickly.

"I'm not going to touch you, you pussy," Ramon said to himself as Jack slumped against the headboard. His own head was swimming and he didn't watch. "I'm too wasted to enjoy you right now," he slurred as he stumbled to his favorite chair, fell into it, and passed out.

The door was open and the light was on. Ramon had said he'd be right back twenty minutes ago. They both had had a lot to drink, but of the two of them, Hector was by far the more regular drinker. When he had walked slowly away, Hector had been slightly concerned his brother didn't fall over something and break his neck. Then he had laughed at the thought. Not Ramon. Nothing in the world, even an end table, would have the audacity to trip up Ramon.

When too much time had passed, he'd checked Ramon's room, expecting him to be asleep on the bed. When he wasn't there, the next logical place was with Jack. He was worried what he might interrupt if he went over there, but he was genuinely concerned about how drunk Ramon had been. Ambling carefully over in his own mildly unsteady gait, Hector was relieved when the door was wide open and the light was on.

Ramon was laid out, arms and legs akimbo, in the stuffed chair. He only groaned when Hector slapped his face gently and said his name. Hector shook his head in frustration as he walked over to the bed. Jack was lying at an uncomfortable angle against the top of the bed, fallen crookedly over onto his left side. Damn, he looked uncomfortable. Only the alcohol in his bloodstream made him have the sympathy to move to lay the poor guy properly on the bed so he was at least able to move in the morning.

If Hector had been a little more sober, he would have noticed sooner how blue Jack's lips and hands were. By the time he did, he had Jack under the arms with his weight throwing him partially off balance. When he realized Jack wasn't breathing, the shock sent him staggering back a few steps and he tripped and fell on his ass, abandoning Jack's body to teeter half on, half off the bed.

"JACK! RAMON!" Hector shouted, recovering quickly, adrenaline rapidly clearing his head. He didn't know who to go to first. Instinctively he knew, even without seeing the abandoned syringe on the floor, what Ramon had done accidently in his drunkenness.

"RAMON, WAKE UP!" he shouted again, returning to Jack to feel for a pulse. To his relief, he actually found a weak and fast one. But he couldn't see his bare chest moving at all. He pulled Jack the rest of the way off the bed. Before he could think about it, he put a couple of breaths past his blue lips.

Then he bolted back to Ramon and hit him hard across the face before shaking him awake. "God damn it Ramon, wake up." When his brother opened his eyes, he was more confused than furious. Hector didn't give him time to get angry.

"Ramon, Jack isn't breathing. You've got to go get Claudia…the medical kit. Then call the doctor."

Ramon stood wide eyed looking down at Jack.

"Ramon!" Hector shook him again. "Ramon, you didn't mean to do this, right?" Hector asked, briefly wondering if Ramon had actually made his decision and decided to execute Jack.

"Do what?" Ramon asked still out of it.

"Kill Jack? You didn't mean to, right?" Hector asked


	6. Chapter 11 and 12

In Mexico Chapter 11 and 12

CHAPTER 11-THE SALAZAR RANCH two days before the raid.

Claudia walked in with the tray. Today was the third day and she was hoping he'd be able to keep something down.

Yesterday had been hell. Jack had never left the floor of the bathroom. He'd refused her help getting back to the bed. And too weak and sick to get there without help, had willingly confined himself to a small space next to the commode.

By the early afternoon he'd stopped urging her to leave him be and let him get through this on his own. Not that he wanted her there; he was just too weak to protest anymore. She didn't care if he was embarrassed by her seeing him like this, having her help him up to be sick or to sit and relieve the cramps, and then guide him back to the cold tile.

Claudia had refused to leave him alone, not like this, so overwhelmed with the withdrawal that he couldn't even hold down the few tablets of methadone she'd managed to find. The one time he'd stood on his own had resulted in a hard fall and a few new bruises to match the one Ramon had left on his face the other night.

Hours had passed. Holding ice on the fresh lump on his forehead, she had tried to squeeze drops from a washcloth into his mouth only to see them futilely return within minutes. By late afternoon, the cramps and shaking finally showed the first signs of letting up. At least they weren't all consuming anymore. Jack's brain had taken advantage of the opportunity and shut down, allowing him to sleep for the first time in two days.

He'd fallen asleep against her shoulder. Claudia had been so relieved and exhausted she'd actually shed a few silent tears. But she hadn't moved for fear of waking him—not for at least an hour until her legs were numb and cramping beneath her. Despite her worry, when she gently moved him onto the hard floor, he didn't stir. Nor did he move when she picked up his head to place the bed pillow under it. Jack had slept on that floor for six hours before he'd awoken sick again.

It was well after midnight when his stomach settled and he had held down a few sips of water. Reluctantly, he'd let her give him a small dose of methadone to ease the symptoms. She didn't have much, but had convinced him even a little would help him stay well enough to attempt to regain some strength.

Claudia had had to smile when, before she'd even pulled him up off the floor on the way to the bed, he'd stopped her and demanded a shower. She hadn't argued. He smelled horrible. And now that he was at least a little aware, his filth would only add to his misery.

She actually hadn't minded having to undress and shower with him, wrapping her arms around him to keep him on his feet in the small shower stall. With Hector off the ranch, and Ramon not having made an appearance since the overdose, she felt safe doing it—even if Ramon's words echoed through her ears almost every time she'd looked at Jack since he'd made that threat. Or had it been a promise?

She and Jack had never made love in the shower worried they might not hear someone approaching. They certainly weren't going to this time either, not with him barely being able to stand. Despite the situation, she couldn't help but enjoy the feel and sight of his wet body pressed against hers or relaxing under her soapy hands as she helped him wash and massaged his aching muscles.

Jack had leaned his exhausted and battered frame against the wall and stood there for as long as he could, taking in all she could give him until his legs had threatened to give out. In that shower, she had felt like they had escaped somehow from Ramon's world. It hadn't been long enough for Claudia, especially knowing that Ramon's discovery was very likely to prevent them from ever being together again once Jack was well.

That had been ten hours ago. She'd checked on him twice since then and he hadn't moved from the bed. She couldn't imagine that there was anything left in him to throw up or put out anymore, his sunken eyes and cracked lips proving how dry he was.

Claudia put the tray on the nightstand and sat on the bed next to him. She ran her hand across the thick blond stubble on his cheek and then his disheveled hair. How she loved the feel of his hair. The wonderful light color always gave her the mirage of making it feel even softer than it was.

"Jack?" she said softly.

His eyes opened slowly. She could only imagine waking up to him some morning and having him smile at her. Today would not be that day—if ever.

"Claudia," he said, sounding miserable, his dry tongue sticking audibly to the roof of his mouth. He rolled to his back and used one hand to rub at his head. Claudia was dismayed to see that hand trembling. But at least it was only his hand, not his entire body today. She'd been expecting too much from only ten hours of sleep. The doctor had said three to four days.

"How's your stomach?" she prompted.

"Okay."

Jack was a lousy patient. He hated being cared for…that was obvious. But she was learning to live with his reluctance. Even he couldn't deny he needed her.

A jack hammer was working on each temple and his mouth was filled with glue. Every muscle…every single one in his body…ached from the constant tremors. Even his eyelids hurt. He wanted to go back to sleep.

"Here," Claudia demanded his attention. When he looked, she was holding her dripping hand inches from his face. He opened his mouth and let her feed him the small cube of ice. The cold and wet felt incredible in his mouth.

"Thank you," he said sincerely. Then he added, "For everything."

He was rewarded with a smile. Even though it made his face hurt, he smiled back, unable not to.

"I mean it Claudia. I know I didn't make it easy for you…what you had to do." He looked away, embarrassed. "Thank you," he repeated.

"You are welcome," Claudia said, bringing more ice to his mouth, not wanting to embarrass him further.

Jack took a chance and pushed up. His head spun and pounded even more once he was sitting upright. He tried to hide his face from Claudia so she wouldn't see he felt like he was about to pass out. He knew she'd figured it out when she squeezed his hand in support and remained quiet until he was ready.

He put out his hand for the cup of ice. But it shook so hard when he tried to close his fingers around it that Claudia snatched it away before all the ice fell to the bed. "Damn," he swore, frustrated, as he watched several chips of ice melt into the sheet.

He didn't want to quit the heroin right now anymore than he'd wanted to start it almost two weeks ago. He didn't understand what had happened that night. In fact, Jack hardly remembered that night.

"Claudia," he said. "How many days has it been…since…"

"The overdose?"

Jack nodded.

"Three. Today's the third day."

Jack hated that he'd lost track of time. Three days didn't mean shit. The cravings would go on unchecked for weeks. He couldn't afford to be distracted by his habit…or lack thereof…right now. Why the fuck Ramon was doing this was beyond him. Jack had to find out. And, in the back of his mind, he had to have a fix. He tried to push the craving down.

"Where's Ramon?" Jack asked straight out, trying to remember when he'd seen him last.

"Around," Claudia said vaguely. "Hector's off on business. Ramon's busy. He hasn't been in here…at least not when I've been here."

Claudia looked nervous. She'd been fine until Ramon and Hector's names had come up. "Claudia," he asked leaning towards her, "what happened that night?"

Claudia took up a small bowl of orange gelatin and a spoon, attempting to ignore Jack's question. When he'd awoken the morning after the overdose, he'd already begun withdrawing. She couldn't tell him when he'd been so ill. And now she didn't want to tell him.

Jack batted away the spoon when she presented it to him, waiting for her answer.

"He knows Jack."

"Knows what Claudia?" Jack asked mildly annoyed. He didn't feel up to figuring out cryptic statements.

"About us."

Jack felt sicker. He didn't know that was possible. She must be mistaken. If that were true, they'd both be dead. On the other hand…it wasn't Ramon she'd been cheating on. Maybe his fickle sense of honor didn't cover his brother's lover's infidelities. _Pleasure is pleasure…no matter where it comes from. _He remembered Ramon's words.

"Claudia," he said, looking for confirmation. He saw the tears forming. She wasn't mistaken.

"What did he say?" Jack's stomach was no longer okay. The tentative truce that had been established was being overwhelmed by the adrenaline flowing through his bloodstream. His palms were quickly clammy.

"He saw us Jack." Her eyes darted up to the corner of the room, above 'Ramon's' chair.

_Oh fuck. The camera._ Jack remembered the days Ramon had come in the exact moment he'd finished eating to drug him back to sleep. Back then, he'd known he was being watched, but that had been very low on his list of concerns. He'd let the presence of a camera slip from his mind. _ How stupid could he have been? Not stupid…stoned._  
Jack's memory of that night was spotty, but he remembered the kiss. Ramon must have relished seeing that.

"Did he hurt you?" Jack asked.

Claudia just shook her head, the tears now streaming down her cheeks.

Jack's stomach wouldn't take anymore. He jumped from the bed and then staggered unsteadily until he reached the door frame of the bathroom, where the need for support warred with the need to vomit for a moment until he made it to the toilet. He was grateful Claudia had stayed in the other room.

He finished being sick and whipped a towel off the rack as he sank to the floor. Jack wiped his face and then buried it in the clean smelling cotton. The implications and ramifications of Ramon knowing about his affair with Claudia paraded through his mind. There were just too many. He couldn't pick any reasonable scenario. Just the fact that Ramon hadn't acted yet was not reasonable nor understandable.

But wait a minute…he had acted. He'd stopped the heroin. Was that what this was….punishment for sleeping with Claudia? Was it jealousy? How sick was it to think that Ramon would be jealous of who he slept with? But this was Ramon. With anyone else, it would be just stupid, but not with Ramon…not with what had happened with the prostitute and in light of Ramon's blatant sexual threats.

Jack pulled himself up to the sink. He steadied himself enough to wash his face and brush his teeth despite his shaking hands. He'd kill himself if he tried to shave right now.  
Leaning from wall to wall, he managed get back to the bed. Claudia hadn't moved. He wanted to sit to talk to her, but he was just too dizzy and the cramps had returned a little. He put his head down on the pillow and caught his breath.

"You okay?" Claudia asked, gaining control of her tears.

"Yeah," Jack assured her untruthfully.

"Claudia, what did he say?"

"I told you. He said he saw us. You know Ramon. He was gloating that he had something to hold over us."

Jack knew she was not telling him everything. She knew what Ramon was holding over them.

"What is it Claudia…that he's threatening? I know Ramon. He'll want something for his silence to Hector."

"He didn't say, Jack. He was drunk. He went to bed and he hasn't brought it up since."

Jack didn't need to ask to see how frightened she was.

"Are you going to be okay?" he asked, visions of Ramon abusing her vivid in his head, of his arms wrapped around her beautiful small body.

"I'm fine Jack. He's not going to hurt _me_."

The way she said that made it clear what the next sentence would have been had she continued. _He's going to hurt you._ Well he was already hurting him. But that's not what Claudia meant either.

"Claudia," he said, only wanting to relieve her of the knowledge she wanted to bear alone and not scare her anymore. "I know already. I know what he wants. He told you to punish you. To make you afraid for me."

Her eyes widened.

"Let it go Claudia. It won't happen. You don't need to worry. That's what he wants—for you to worry about what he's going to do to me."

Claudia looked at Jack, lying too weak on the bed to get up. Lying there trying to convince her he wasn't threatened by Ramon. She wasn't convinced. He'd already been drugged and abused and now thrown into withdrawal by Ramon…and who the hell knew what else. She had no confidence that he could protect himself from Ramon.

But what could she do? Nothing. He was being stubborn. But then again, there was nothing he could do either except to try to protect her by deluding himself and lying to her. This place was a living hell.

She stood. "I'll leave the tray," she announced flatly. "Try to get everything down. You need the fluids. There's a methadone dose there if you want it." Claudia walked to the door. "I'll check on you in a few hours," she said before she walked out.

Jack watched her leave…feeling relieved and abandoned at the same time. For her own protection, he had to push Claudia away. And it was just about the last thing he wanted to do. But he didn't want her to get hurt.

If she didn't care about him, she wouldn't be hurt by what Ramon might do to him. She had seen through his lie when he'd said Ramon wasn't going to touch him. Jack knew the only way he'd be able to avoid it would be time. If he could put Ramon off long enough for the meeting to happen and CTU to come in, he could keep Ramon's hands off him and stay alive. That's the only way out he could see. And when he eventually arrested Ramon, Claudia would be safe.

With difficulty, Jack managed to pinch the methadone pill between two fingers and get it into his mouth. Using both hands, he was steady enough to pick up the cup of ice and drink the small puddle of water that had accumulated in the bottom. He let his head fall back against the headboard and waited to see if the water and pill stayed down.

After a moment, he eyed the tray full of an assortment of liquids and gelatins. Climbing Everest seemed easier than ingesting all that and keeping it in him. But he needed out of here. He needed some strength back so he could deal with Ramon and the cartel. With two hands again, he reached for the unappealing orange gelatin Claudia had tried to feed him.

What a waste this was. As soon as he walked out that door, he was going to be in a battle to prevent himself from looking for a fix. The stuff was everywhere on the ranch. Ramon knew he could never keep him from it. If this was a test, seeing if Jack had the resolve to remain clean, Jack wasn't sure he could pass. He needed the stuff too much in this hellhole. And he was hooked again.

Claudia looked out her bedroom window. She looked at the men working and walking about, going about their business. She tried to put Jack among them…just another face working the ranch. Another face she didn't need to worry about or care about if Ramon decided to hurt or discard them. But she couldn't. Even if their relationship was over, he'd never be just another face. If Ramon touched him and she couldn't, she'd care.

Ramon had thrown himself into his work to distract himself from Jack…and now Claudia. He'd allowed himself an occasional peek at the video from the camera, but that had been unrewarding, Jack and Claudia having spent most of the last two days in the bathroom and therefore out of sight of the lens.

Only by chance had he seen Claudia leave late yesterday afternoon. When he'd heard the shower go on in her room, he'd snuck in to see Jack, curious that he wasn't back in the bed. The smell had almost overwhelmed him in the filthy bathroom.

He'd half expected Claudia to lose interest in her lover when she saw him vomiting and shitting like a pathetic addict. But she hadn't. She'd hung in there like the tough peasant girl she really was beneath the designer clothing his brother's money paid for. She'd grown up with misery in the slums and seemed immune to the suffering-very immune given Jack's miserable state.

He had been covered with a blanket, a pillow under his head, passed out on the bathroom floor. He had looked like hell. Ramon had never seen anyone this far into withdrawal and had been a taken aback by the severity of the symptoms. He hadn't meant for this to happen. With Hector gone and Jack's liaison with Claudia confirmed, he simply hadn't wanted to see Jack. The byproduct had been that Jack also didn't see him or his fixes for over twelve hours after the doctor had left.

When Claudia had come to him, almost on her knees, begging for him to help Jack, to at least soften the withdrawal, his heart had hardened against her and her lover. Let her watch her knight in shining armor suffer like the lowest of mortals. A few days of watching Jack withdrawal would take the glamour out of the love affair…if that's what it was, if it was about more than just sex.

He had nudged Jack with his toe. Jack had opened his eyes but didn't come awake enough to really see him, closing them right away with a soft moan. Ramon had been worried. In the next couple of days, he needed Jack working on the ranch and the planning. He'd been worried that maybe he'd let this go on too long.

But today he was encouraged. He'd kept an eye on Jack all day through the lens of the camera. He'd been dutifully forcing down everything Claudia had brought him to drink. The times when he disappeared into the bathroom were becoming fewer. Mid day, Claudia reappeared with another tray, this time containing solid food.

Ramon sat at his desk to watch their interactions, regretting he'd not installed audio with the camera. But studying their body language was enough to give him a good idea of what was going on. Claudia, probably happy with how much better Jack looked, had sat down on the bed and handed Jack something off the tray. He had refused whatever it was. Jack's face never returned the smile that had decorated Claudia's at first. Over several minutes, Claudia's face darkened, her body slouched.

The conversation ended when Claudia abruptly stood and turned to Jack. Ramon could no longer see her face, only Jack's. Over the last two weeks Ramon had been studying that face. He knew Jack's moods, when he was in pain, and when he was covering pain.

At this moment, Jack was covering pain. He'd masked it well enough for Claudia, who'd turned on her heels and fled the room, but not for Ramon. Ramon saw that whatever had happened had hurt both of them. Jack stared off into space for a moment and then punched the mattress hard in frustration.

Ramon knew now, seeing this, that this relationship had been about more than just sex. Ramon also knew he would probably never tell his brother. He would handle these two on his own.

He didn't want Jack to die. He'd determined that over these many days. He'd also determined he'd give Jack time to come to him. Jack's expertise was crucial to their upcoming arrangements. Their clients would need to see the ranch's men at their best, and only under Jack would that happen. Also, his arms knowledge was irreplaceable.

Given all that, threatening Jack and carrying out the threat if he didn't comply was just not feasible now. Jack knew what Ramon wanted and he wouldn't let Jack forget either. Nor would he let Claudia.

Their clandestine relationship was over tomorrow when Jack left that room. Jack had probably tried to end it just now, but given both their reactions, it wasn't really over. Jack could try to push her away to protect her, but Claudia would still feel for him. And anything he did to Jack, she would know about. That would be both their punishments. Ramon wondered if she could ever look at Jack the same way knowing Ramon had fucked him.

He'd lain in the dark for a few minutes after the sun went down, wanting to sleep, but knowing he should stay up, try to put himself back into a regular routing, and finish the food on the tray. Finally, Jack pushed out of bed and flicked on the lights before shuffling to the bathroom.

Jack looked in the mirror. He looked like shit.

Three days of withdrawal and a nearly constant barrage of physical and mental abuse will do that to you. He had lost track of how long it had been in total. At least most of the swelling was gone, even if the bruises at various stages of healing still left a rainbow of colors on his skin. He brushed his teeth to rid himself of the taste of bile and swallowed a little water.

"Well, well Jack, up and about I see," Ramon crowed from right outside his bathroom door when he opened it, standing so close his after shave made Jack's stomach heave.

Jack didn't want to admit that it was the closeness itself that made him nauseous.

All in all though, Jack was glad Ramon was here, hoping it signaled the end of this purgatory. "Ramon," Jack greeted flatly, leaving it open for Ramon to do the talking.

"Feeling up to getting back to work?" Ramon asked straight out.

Jack eyed Ramon suspiciously. Although that was usually unnecessary…Ramon was rarely coy. When he said something he meant it. "Yes, Ramon, I am," he said, trying to express his relief as positively as he could for Ramon's benefit.

"Good," said Ramon, looking out the window onto the dark courtyard. "Things are happening quickly," he turned back to Jack. "I need you ready."

So many things were running through Jack's mind at once—the mission was back on track, he felt like shit, if Ramon needed him why the hell did he hurt him, exactly what was happening quickly, and, to his dismay, he wondered if Ramon had brought him a fix.

"Not happy, Jack?" Ramon asked when Jack hadn't said anything.

"No…no," Jack stuttered lost in his own thoughts. "I'm sorry Ramon. Of course I'm glad. I want to get back to work…I'm just a little tired, that's all. A good night's sleep and I'll be ready."

Jack fidgeted under Ramon's gaze, unhappy he'd admitted the fatigue. But hell, Ramon had to see he wasn't a hundred percent, after all, it was his doing. Jack just didn't want to take any chances. He wanted Ramon to think they were one big happy family again and he was ready to go bust his ass for the cartel. Ramon could do anything he wanted; even come close to killing him when he was sloppy drunk, and all would be forgiven because Ramon now trusted him.

But Jack didn't delude himself that this was all over. There was still that matter of the…oh hell…he couldn't even think the words…the threat Ramon had made. Just like Ramon was never coy, he also never forgot.

Jack absently rubbed at his eyes. He'd been up for hours forcing himself to eat. He thought the worst was over. His stomach was almost completely settled. He was pretty sure all he needed was some sleep and a few more hours. Then the battle to stay away from the needle would begin in earnest.

While he certainly looked better than he had on the bathroom floor yesterday, Ramon didn't think Jack looked great. But, knowing Jack, he'd rally and get to work. Hector was gone. And Ramon was going to join him tomorrow—something he'd been hoping to avoid but now thought he could manage. He wanted Jack to be in charge. It would be both his reward and test. Ramon would be watching to make sure that there were no grudges after all this.

Ramon almost felt sympathy for him. He'd put him through hell. And Jack had proven what a tough and resilient son of a bitch he was. Jack only had one more hurdle to jump before he was a free man again. Actually he'd be much more than a free man. He would be a partner in the Salazar cartel, which, within the month, would become far and away the most powerful cartel in all of Central and South America.

Chapter 12 THE SALAZAR RANCH The day before the raid.

The sleep had been restless, but at least there had been a lot of it. And there hadn't been any vomiting or cramps. The tremors were almost controllable. The only things that weren't at this point were Ramon's appearance and his appetite for a fix. Jack was praying once he was busy and working again the cravings wouldn't be so front and center.

He was lying in bed in just his boxers when Ramon burst through the door. The sun was barely up. Ramon was not usually a morning person, preferring to do everything…business and pleasure, late in the day. Jack sat up in bed as Ramon threw the same clothes Jack been wearing almost two weeks ago onto the bed at his feet. He kicked Jack's boots out from under the bed.

Ramon smiled down at him. "Come on, Jack, we've got a lot to do. Let's go."

Jack, still groggy, moved slowly. His body still hadn't quite recovered from the days of shaking. But he pushed himself, trying not to make Ramon wait or think he was too weak to do whatever he had in mind.

"Throw those clothes on and then go to your own place to shower and dress properly," Ramon said, watching him plant his feet on the floor.

Under normal circumstances, Ramon's watching him dress would be fine. But Jack didn't think he'd ever be comfortable again under his gaze, no matter how innocent it may be or appear.

Ramon paced to the window, oblivious of any discomfort on Jack's part. Jack was relieved, both that he could hide his anxiety, and that Ramon, at least this morning, seemed uninterested.

"May I ask what's happening, Ramon?" Jack asked tentatively.

"Jack, this" Ramon glanced around the room, clearly referring to his imprisonment here, "is over."

Jack was glad to hear it, but past events made him know it really wasn't even if he was being set free.

"You aren't…" Ramon paused searching for the right word. What _was_ the right word Jack wondered? Prisoner? Chattel? Slave? Toy? Ramon couldn't define it either. "You aren't being tested anymore. You don't have to be so damn polite."

"Okay, Ramon," Jack said, knowing that only time would prove that true, even if Ramon believed what he was saying.

"Things are moving quickly with our new clients. Hector is meeting with them as we speak in Buenos Aires," Ramon informed him. Jack finished buttoning his shirt. "I need to bring you up to speed. Go change and meet me in the kitchen for breakfast."

Jack sensed Ramon's excitement at his new venture. Ramon gave Jack one more unreadable look, and walked quickly out the door. "See you in few minutes," he threw over his shoulder.

In his wake, Jack sagged and sat on the bed to collect himself. After a moment, with nothing to pack or clean up, he walked out the door, through the quiet house, and out onto the porch. He paused to revel, however briefly, in the freedom of being outside. And to get his act together. In fifteen minutes he had to walk into that kitchen as if the last two weeks hadn't happened.

Gathering his resolve Jack stepped off the porch towards his room. And ran almost head on into Tomas and Oscar. Oh fuck. You'd think at this time of morning, with the sun hardly up, his walk back could at least be private.

Tomas and he exchanged uncomfortable glances. Tomas knew exactly where he had been. The only question was how much Tomas knew of what had happened. Jack thought not all. Tomas had been there in the beginning…and that day in the courtyard…when Ramon had faked his execution. But, of late, Jack had not seen him…just Hector and Ramon. That meant Ramon had probably kept quiet the worst of what had occurred.

"Tomas," Jack greeted dolefully.

"Welcome back, Jack," Tomas returned. Jack wondered where everyone thought he had been. He needed to find out the lie Ramon had told so he didn't give anything away.

Oscar shifted uncomfortably in Tomas' strong grasp. Jack immediately thought the kid was drunk. As much as he liked Oscar, he was just pissed to see him this morning. "Hello, Oscar," he grumbled, only deciding at the last second to greet him at all, pushing past.

His eyes were already targeting the door of his quarters when suddenly Oscar's skinny frame was draped all over him. A thin elbow knocked into too fresh a bruise and Jack had to suppress a small gasp. Controlling his temper, he grabbed at the drunken boy and righted him. "God damn it, Oscar, get a hold of yourself." Maybe some other morning, he would have found this all comical, the boy drunk and lost at the crack of dawn. But not this morning.

It was then that he felt Oscar's hand slip into the front left pocket of his jeans. Jack's first impulse was to grab him and twist his arm. He didn't want anyone else touching him. But then he realized, quickly, that that was just stupid and paranoid. The boy's movement had definitely not been accidental.

Jack glanced at him, but Oscar's face was already turned toward Tomas, who was too busy scolding him to note Jack's look. Jack continued to his room, aware of the note as soon as he closed the door and felt the pocket where Oscar's hand had been.

Why the fuck was Oscar passing him notes?

Jack went to the bathroom so no prying eyes saw him reading. His legs weren't that sturdy to begin with this morning. When he recognized Tony's handwriting, his knees just about gave out and he fell heavily onto the seat of the toilet. Was this some sort of fucking withdrawal nightmare?

He shook his head, trying to clear it enough to piece all this together. Ramon had freed him at exactly the same time Oscar was there waiting with a note that was, without a doubt, hand written by Tony Almeida. This had to be a set up. But how? How would Ramon have gotten Tony's note? And why have the boy give it to him rather than confront him himself?

Jack controlled the shaking in his hands enough to read. Immediately, he recognized the code. He should have been able to decipher it in his head. But his brain was numb and he wanted physical proof of what he was reading. He went to the desk and for three minutes worked out the message.

_Raid Sunday fourth.  
_  
_No._ Jack said under his breath. _No. This can't be happening._ Those three words would ruin everything. He rummaged through the desk drawer for a calendar. By his best guess, today was Saturday, the third. He ran to the bed and fumbled at his watch. It confirmed: 6:25 am, Sat 6/3.

In the back of his mind, Jack was aware he needed to be in the main house very soon. His legs carried him blindly to the shower. As he shaved, then dressed, Jack ran through every way possible he could to stop them. Not a single one involved borrowing Ramon's house phone during breakfast and calling CTU. Other than that, he had no options until he was done with Ramon's breakfast meeting.

Wondering how the hell he was going to concentrate and focus on Ramon, Jack burned the note and his decryption over the toilet and flushed the ashes down. He walked out the door to see Ramon and hear about his plans for the new clients—clients he'd never see if he didn't stop this raid.

Ramon was damn near chipper. Jack had to work way too hard to force a barely comparable mood. At least when he slipped, Ramon would suspect the lingering withdrawal as the cause. The cook put breakfast on the table in front of them. An hour ago when he'd awoken, Jack had been hungry. Now the sight of the eggs and ham in front of him was sickening. He cradled a cup of coffee, forcing his hands steady on the cup, and listened to Ramon.

"…Tomas has been working them. But I need you to focus on a different kind of training," Jack picked up mid sentence.

"No problem, Ramon," he answered dutifully as Ramon specified the type of training the men needed and what weapons were available now and plans for purchasing, training on, and selling new ones.

The more he spoke, the more Jack realized that the cartel was well into the planning phase of their collaboration with several Middle Eastern groups. Jack could take an educated guess at which ones based on what Ramon was saying, but waited in vain for Ramon to identify them specifically.

"You are not going to eat?" Ramon said, taking a break from the rather intense briefing session. "Are you feeling up to work?" He asked, more concerned, Jack thought, for his plans than for Jack's health and well being.

"Oh, I'm sorry Ramon…just that I…" Jack said, "I was listening and forgot about the food. I'm fine." He dug into the eggs and forced himself to swallow.

"Good," Ramon said, signaling for both their coffee cups to be refilled, "because I need you to run things around here for a few days."

Jack stopped mid bite.

"Hector's negotiations are going well…but, unfortunately, the heads of the groups are requesting I come join them to finish up. I had wanted to wait until they were gathered here. But now that you are back…I think I can go down. Besides, a few days by the sea would do me some good before the work ahead."

"When are you leaving?" Jack asked as nonchalantly as he possibly could.

"This evening," Ramon said, getting up. "I want to get you started on the things I need you to do in my absence. But they want me there in the morning, if I can, for an early meeting."

Jack's blood ran cold. Ramon wouldn't be here tomorrow. The raid would happen without the capture of Ramon Salazar. _Oh fuck._ He needed to find a way to stop CTU.

"Jack, you alright?" Ramon asked.

"Yeah…fine…I think that I just ate a little too fast for my stomach," Jack covered. "Listen Ramon, would you mind if I took a few minutes before we got started? I've been out of my room for a while. I just need to take care of a few personal things." He prayed Ramon didn't pry about what personal things he could possibly need to take care of.

"Sure, Jack," Ramon said, studying him to see if he was really alright. "Twenty minutes enough?"

_No._ "Yes, thanks," Jack said, already leaving. Jack realized that Ramon thought he was going to shoot up. That was good. First it provided some cover. Second, it meant that if he couldn't stop himself from resuming the habit, at least he didn't have to worry about Ramon coming down on him.

"Meet me in the armory," Ramon called out behind him.

"Okay."

Jack had to stop himself from breaking into an all out sprint. Once in his room, he quickly checked outside all the windows. The courtyard was empty. But the house was only seconds away. Anything he did was risky. But he had to. Jack pushed the bed aside and found the loose floor board.

The phone was dead. He vaguely remembered the battery had needed charging the night of the party. Usually he would leave a gathering early and charge it in the dark, watching the windows for anyone approaching. But he'd been drunk and not due for a check in for another day, so he'd let it slide.

And the phone wasn't the best quality. His phone had been confiscated the night he'd come here. They'd search his luggage immediately. Buying this one off the black market on one of the first forays he'd made into town had been dangerous. You never knew if word would get back to Ramon, even when he had someone buy it for him. For all he knew, he'd bought it from one of Ramon's own black market suppliers.

He pulled out the phone and plugged and went to the wall. There was no where to hide the thing in this room. Only two outlets, both in plain site, both with long extension cords running exposed for a couple of meters from the only two lights he had and an ancient alarm clock.

He'd been too optimistic thinking it would turn right on. In fact, he didn't even see any signs of life. Frustrated and discouraged, Jack sank to the floor. He couldn't leave it plugged in. He'd have to find another way. The adrenaline rush Tony's note had induced was wearing off. Jack found himself desperately wanting the heroin that Ramon already assumed he was injecting.

The morning hours passed by in a blur of instructions and questions from Ramon—as if he was trying to cram the last two weeks of what should have been Jack's job into this one abbreviated day. Jack was dismayed to find himself, at almost every turn, listening to Ramon while simultaneously making contingency plans for the raid tomorrow, acting as if he was already resigned to the notion that he wouldn't find a way to get word through to stop it.

He followed Ramon from place to place. He noted the weapons in the armory that would pose the most danger to anyone trying to raid the compound. As they covered sections of the ranch, he assessed the likelihood of where the raid would come from and where it had already been determined, in previous planning, they on the inside would defend from.

They found most of the men training on the far north fields. At a break, many of them came over to happily greet Jack, glad to see him 'home' again. He felt dizzy as more than one of them used that word. Ramon gathered them around and gave an abbreviated version of the talk he'd given Jack at breakfast, outlining the training they would begin in the next few days.

Jack stood quietly at Ramon's side, noting the faces belonging to those who would be most dangerous in a conflict and to those he would hate to see hurt. Oscar was in the latter group, fidgeting uncomfortably under the hot sun, looking so out of place surrounded by the tough and grizzled lot of Ramon's men.

The boy kept his eyes on Ramon as he spoke. Only once did Jack see him look up at him. When he saw Jack looking back, Oscar's face resembled a deer in the headlights and he brought his head quickly down to his chest.

Jack tried to read something into Oscar's reaction, but couldn't. He desperately wanted to get him alone so Oscar could explain. Between that and finding a way to make the phone call, neutralizing as many threats as he could before dark, and getting started on Ramon's orders, he had a very busy afternoon ahead of him.

Ramon finished speaking. Jack climbed back into the jeep, in the passenger seat next to him. They were both hot and sweaty, summer having hit hard and quick weeks ago. Jack reached into the back seat as Ramon drove and grabbed two bottles of water. He opened one for Ramon, but his arm and his mind froze as he raised the bottle to hand it to him. Ramon didn't see him, but instead, seemed lost in thought, staring at the dusty track ahead, mulling over his plans.

Jack stared at the man next to him. All day he'd been ignoring the biggest problem. Well, finding a way to make the call was his biggest problem… but after that…if he couldn't find a way to contact CTU. He needed to keep Ramon on the ranch.

"Here, Ramon," he said to get his attention.

Ramon took the bottle wordlessly and emptied half of it in one gulp. Jack sipped more tentatively, the heat and stress reeking havoc on the lingering withdrawal symptoms and unsettling his stomach.

"You didn't fix," Ramon said simply, still staring far ahead down the road, after another draught had emptied the plastic bottle in his hand. He didn't like the way Jack looked.

"No," Jack admitted, turning to look out the passenger side of the jeep at nothing, waiting to see what Ramon had to say about it. But he said nothing more.

Jack used the silence as the jeep hit a bumpy slow section to map out just how this could all play out. He closed his eyes at the impossibility of the situation.

Ramon must have been watching and misinterpreted. "Fix if you have to. I need you to get the work done."

When Jack looked at him, Ramon actually appeared slightly concerned. Jack looked back out where a window would have been. "I will Ramon." That was vague; he could have been referring to either fixing or getting the work done, or both.

But he was thinking he might have to fix. Especially considering what he had just concluded, what he now knew he might have to do. He fought to settle his stomach.

"Ramon, you said, this morning," he began "that these people wanted you at this meeting?"

"Hector implied they wanted me. I want things to go smoothly, so I agreed. What's your point, Jack?" Ramon asked, confused. Was Jack worried he was leaving? He couldn't believe Jack would be admitting he was incapable of running things.

The jeep slowed naturally as Ramon's attention switched to Jack. When Ramon looked at him, Jack felt a swell of panic. He backtracked, unable to commit yet to what he'd been planning to do.

"Just curious what they want. From what you've told me, Hector has plenty of power to deal and make decisions. I'm just thinking about their reasons for wanting you there…and your safety."

Ramon looked at him with a critical eye. The jeep had stopped, now sitting still under the blazing sun, the running motor the only sound around. Jack needed to pad his reasoning to get Ramon to reconsider this trip. "Look Ramon, I know these people. I have an idea of who specifically you are dealing with from what you've already told me."

That was a not so subtle stab at getting Ramon to confirm an actual group name. But Ramon didn't fall for the bait. Instead, he squinted his eyes critically at what Jack was saying as he continued. "They are trustworthy, but only to a point. You both go down there, you are alone and isolated, without security. That makes the entire cartel vulnerable."

When Jack looked at Ramon he could see the wheels turning over his words. Ramon was cautious, but not a coward. "You think they might kill me? Why would they do that?"

"No, not kill you…at least not right off. But hold you hostage for your money…if they think your holdings are worth more than your assistance. With both of you gone…who will protect your interests?"

"You will Jack," Ramon said instantly, as if the answer was obvious.

After all Ramon had done to him over the last two weeks, he assumed Jack's total allegiance. Jack almost laughed at the Salazar notion of how to aquire loyalty. In a way, Ramon was very naïve. Probably because no one had ever dared to turn on him before.

"I know I would, Ramon," Jack assured. "I just didn't…I wasn't sure you trusted me to that point."

He was wondering if there had been or was anything else he could say to make Ramon fear for himself or the cartel's interests enough to not go to Buenos Aires tonight. All he had to do was delay Ramon for twenty four hours. But pushing the point any further could undermine Ramon's trust in him and just cause suspicion.

Ramon reached out and touched the tattoo on Jack's arm. Jack watched his tanned hand on the paler skin of his forearm and didn't recoil. He couldn't for so many reasons—one of them the sincerity of Ramon's face at the moment-pulling his arm back would have been a slap in that face.

"You have this," Ramon said.

Jack continued to look at Ramon's hand, his head down. He felt Ramon's eyes scanning his face. He was glad the heat covered the flush that he felt—the flush accompanying the light headedness caused by what he was about to say—what he was about to allow Ramon to do.

"I don't own it outright, though, do I Ramon?"

He gathered his courage and looked up at Ramon. _What the hell was he doing? And why?_

But Jack knew why-because he'd worked too hard and sacrificed too much to go home empty handed. It was that simple. This, letting Ramon have him if he had to, was the end of the slippery slope he'd let himself fall on to. This had all begun with that first fix to quell his despair the night of Teri's birthday. Maybe this was an appropriate end. Maybe he deserved this for all that he'd done.

Ramon said nothing. The air, despite the topless jeep, was heavy between them. Jack swallowed hard and felt the perspiration drip down the side of his face.

"No, you don't," Ramon finally admitted, studying Jack hard.

"I want to."

Jack was aware of Ramon's hand still on him. He felt the fingers squeeze down a bit.

Then Ramon laughed, almost as if he wanted to break the tension. "Are you that worried about me going down there Jack?"

Jack stayed serious. He couldn't laugh even to fake it. "No," he said softly.

Ramon took his hand off Jack's arm and his foot off the brake. The jeep rolled forward, each of them lost in his own thoughts. Nothing was said until they stopped minutes later in front of the armory where Jack was to begin his chores…for Ramon it was to be an initial assessment of stock for his meeting, for CTU it was to be sabotage.

"I will send someone out with lunch for you." Ramon said, still in the jeep as Jack stood aside it, not addressing the real issue. Jack looked at his watch. It was already past two. Ramon sighed heavily and looked through the windshield.

"Nine o'clock."

Ramon didn't look at him before he roared the engine and Jack watched him pull away. But not so fast to prevent Jack from seeing Ramon's unmistakable smile. He'd gotten what he wanted yet again.

He looked down and kicked the dirt. This wasn't over yet. He still might be able to figure a way out. But somehow, Jack felt like he was drowning, Ramon's hands all over him, pushing him under.

Claudia heard him rummaging somewhere in the large room, but didn't see him. She put the tray down on the desk right next to the door.

"Jack?" she called.

Hearing her voice, Jack almost dropped the gun he was holding. He stiffened and wished her away. But her face appeared around the end of the row of shelving.

"Claudia," he said softly, wiping his sweaty forearm ineffectively across his equally perspiring face.

"I brought you something to eat. You look better," she added hopefully.

"Thanks," Jack replied to both statements.

Claudia couldn't help herself. She walked over and put a hand on his chest, bringing herself close so he would kiss her.

Jack walked away. He turned away. "Ramon sent you."

"Yes," she admitted, knowing where this was headed. But she didn't want to give him up without a fight, Ramon be damned.

"He's teasing you, Claudia." Ramon was actually teasing _him_, parading Claudia in front of him in a little celebration of triumph. "And he's probably watching us." Jack eyed the security cameras within sight. And there were more out of sight. He'd been very careful to hide what he'd been doing to many of the weapons as he'd 'inspected' them.

"Jack," Claudia said plaintively, "please, don't do this."

"Damn it Claudia, we've been over this. You're an intelligent woman. Don't be so fucking naïve." She was playing with both their lives. Jack felt both anger and pity. Claudia was desperate. She had nothing but Hector's unreliable attention. She had to fake love for him just to stay alive…just to stay in this hell for her brother and father. Because her few alternatives were actually worse.

"I'm sorry, Jack," she said turning away from the harshness of his words. "I don't want to give you up. Only for Ramon to…" Claudia was sickened at the thought of Ramon touching Jack. Touching him when she couldn't and Jack forced to let him to live.

"You have to. Go Claudia…its over." He let the words sink in. "I'll be okay."

Jack was grateful when she left without protest, although he knew she was crying. Claudia was another loose end that he wouldn't have time to tie up. _That was cold._ Claudia was more than a loose end.

He had seriously promised to get her out of here someday. That someday would now be tomorrow. There would be no time to warn her to soften the blow when she found out what he really was. Yet another man who'd deceived her. He could only hope she knew, after it was over, he had never used her. What he'd felt…what he still felt…was genuine. 


	7. Chapter 13 and 14

In Mexico Chapters 13 and 14

Author's note: Again, as with Chapter 9, Chapter 13 has a longer, very adult, very slash version available on my website, 24nmore(dot)com.

Chapter 13—Twelve Hours before the raid

The afternoon hours slipped away even more quickly than had the morning ones. At every turn, Jack found someone or something diverting him from what he needed to do—which was make that phone call.

He'd been unsuccessful in finding Oscar and regretted the twenty minutes he'd spent trying to find him. Oscar hadn't appeared in the bunkhouse when all the others had returned from the fields. Jack was fairly certain the kid was hiding from him and not for the first time wondered what the hell Tony had told him. He was hoping Oscar had a way to contact Tony. But now that possibility had vanished.

By six thirty, Jack was frustrated, tired, and hot. But finally he made it back to his room. He had two and a half hours. Retrieving the cell phone, he plugged it in, not surprised when the screen remained dark and blank. He held out hope that the lights would come on, but he knew that was too optimistic. He needed to get to the house phones.

With that goal in mind, he showered and dressed quickly. Without thinking, he found that he'd put on one of the last laundered pair of pants he had, dark tan slacks and a button down shirt—what he'd wear for a business meeting on the ranch. Well, maybe that's how he should think about tonight. A business meeting. He laughed at the ludicrous thought.

Jack had taken a huge risk and left the phone plugged in. He went to check it just as an insistent knock sounded at the door. His heart pounded that whoever it was wouldn't glance through the window as he dove for the exposed phone and cord, unplugging and shoving it under the bed table in one swift move.

His heart still thudded in his chest as he opened the door, in the back of his mind noting that the LCD screen had still been lifeless.

"Senior." It was one of the house servants. Jack relaxed in relief that it wasn't Ramon. Ramon for sure would have spied before knocking. "Senior Salazar requests you join him for dinner in the main house."

Jack glanced back at the alarm clock he'd restored to the table. It was almost seven o'clock. "What time?" Jack asked.

"The senior asked that you come as soon as possible." Jack translated. Ramon wants you there immediately.

"Please tell Senior Salazar I will be there momentarily."

The man turned and left with only a nod of his head as acknowledgement.

Jack closed the door and leaned his head against the old stained wood. _What the fuck was he going to do? _This meant Ramon would be in the house with him. Being alone would be next to impossible. _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.___

Jack walked to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. There were dark circles under his eyes and bruises on his mouth and forehead. His face was as thin as he ever remembered it being in his adult life. He needed a haircut. He had trouble looking himself in the eyes.

It was Claudia's anxious and sad face that greeted him when he walked into the dining room five minutes later. He'd been so worried about Ramon, he'd forgotten that Claudia would be there. Immediately, he also had to wonder what Ramon had planned. Was he going to tell her out and out what Jack had agreed to? How far would Ramon take this to punish Claudia? God…would he make her be there?

Jack wondered how he was going to be able to force any food down.

"Good evening, Jack," Ramon greeted evenly, offering a glass of wine. "Feeling better I hope."

"Thank you Ramon," Jack accepted the dark burgundy. "Yes, I am." Jack was buoyed by the formality of Ramon's initial words. He only could hope the act would continue throughout dinner for Claudia's benefit. That making him have dinner with her was only to make_ him_ uncomfortable. In that, Ramon had already been successful.

"Claudia," Jack greeted formally.

"Jack," Claudia responded with a polite smile and a half hearted toast of her own wine goblet.

So this was how they were going to play it. They would all ignore the elephant in the room. That was fine by Jack.

Dinner was served. The conversation remained polite and superficial. Only one of them ever wore a smile that was unforced. Jack had several glasses of wine that served to slightly calm the tremor in his hands and make him at least a little grateful that Ramon hadn't out and out announced to Claudia about their upcoming 'meeting.'

When, after coffee, Claudia politely excused herself to retire early, given Hector's absence, Jack rose with great relief to say good night. Ramon had only been teasing him. As far as he knew, Claudia was ignorant as to Ramon's after dinner plans. Jack was surprised at Ramon's restraint.

With Claudia gone, his worry shifted back to the phone call. It was almost eight thirty. He had a half an hour to save the mission.

"Cigar Jack?" Ramon asked, already having produced two of the expense Cuban variety he preferred.

"Can I join you outside in a minute, Ramon? I need to use the restroom," he said, gesturing vaguely at his own midsection. Jack could tell Ramon wasn't happy that Jack was still dealing with the withdrawal. Ramon had forgotten about his game and moved on. For him, all that was over. He had expected Jack to do the same…regardless that Jack still had the physiological realities to deal with.

Jack was glad his stomach was surprisingly calm after the meal. Although the excuse to find himself alone was ideal, he wasn't feeling that bad.

Ramon rose with Jack, but each went a separate direction. When Jack disappeared around the wall separating the dining room from the hallway, he paused waiting to hear Ramon step outside. Only when he heard the slam of the screen door did he dart back into the kitchen and to the wall phone.

Jack had never considered how few phones were in the house. One phone and line in Ramon's office and one in the kitchen. He hadn't seen any others. Of course, permanent lines would be easily and very likely tapped, so, except for mundane household business, the family used cells.

Jack's hand was perspiring as he picked up the portable handset. He stationed himself against the wall where he could peak occasionally to make sure Ramon was staying put outside. He dialed CTU, making note to dial a local number after he was done to erase the US number from the 'redial.'

The connection seemed to take forever. The voice that answered was unfamiliar.

"CTU. How may I direct your call?"

_Fuck._ This was the main number for the operation. Ryan, Chase, or Tony should have picked up. Or at least a god damned agent. Unless they were already on their way here.

When Jack spoke, even his hushed whisper sounded too loud, as if announcing to the entire fucking ranch that he was on this phone. "This is Agent Bauer. Put me through to Almeida or Edmunds."

The pause that ensued was discomforting. "I'm sorry Agent Bauer. They're not here."

Jack didn't need to ask where they were. "Forward me to Agent Edmunds cell. Now," he finished in a frantic whisper…if such a thing were possible.

He heard the footsteps behind him just in time. Deep down, he knew they were Claudia's, but he reflexively hung up the phone, unsure and unable to take the risk.

"Jack?" Claudia asked, finding him leaning oddly against the wall.

Jack took a gulp of air and turned to her. He turned on the well practiced symptoms of the withdrawal. The perspiration induced at almost being caught was real.

"Are you alright?"

He had to wonder how Claudia would react if he simply told her the truth. Maybe that would have been a risk worth taking. But then he rethought the risk when he saw that her concern was no more politeness. He saw she was angry about the way he had treated her earlier in the day. Not knowing how deep her anger went, he couldn't take the chance she wouldn't call for Ramon.

"Yeah, thanks," he said perfunctorily. "Just a little dizzy with the wine. I don't think I drank enough fluids today. I came in to get a glass of water and lost my balance a bit."

Claudia eyed him suspiciously. His admission was unlike him. But she was done with him. She was no longer his nurse. Claudia nodded her head and found the magazine she'd come back for. She turned back towards her room without another word.

Jack felt the coldness. He felt how he'd hurt her. "Claudia," he called out softly. She stopped but didn't turn. Then Jack's reason returned. This was how it had to be. Tomorrow she'd be assailed with the whole truth. She'd be hurt even more. "Good night," he mumbled before she started back towards her room.

Before he could even consider picking the phone back up, he heard heavier footsteps coming from the other direction. Jack straightened. Ramon stepped around the corner, an empty wine glass in his hand.

Jack moved before Ramon could speak, picking up the half empty bottle from the counter and taking the glass from Ramon's hand. He found a second for himself and filled both. Jack didn't let Ramon ask him what had been keeping him. He raised the glass in an informal toast, took a sip, and prompted Ramon for the cigar he'd been promised.

Together, they walked back through the dining room and out on to the porch. Jack sat and lit the cigar and sipped the wine. Neither of them spoke. Jack realized that this is what it could be like actually being Ramon's partner. For a moment he closed out CTU and Ramon's last requirement. For a moment, he forgot what Ramon had put him through and what Ramon was capable of doing. For a fleeting moment he sat and enjoyed the quiet evening, the drink, and the cigar.

Tomorrow was now inevitable. Now he only had to deal with tonight. But not yet.

Time passed. When Ramon rose, neither of them knew exactly what time it was. Without thought, Jack got up and followed him into the house and then into Ramon's spacious office. It was during the walk that it occurred to Jack to be anxious, watching Ramon's compact body move in front of him. The false sense of security he'd allowed to form during the quiet time on the porch was fragile and quickly gone.

He clung to the hope that this had all been a bluff, another one of Ramon's tests. Recent history and Ramon's character, though, made that extremely unlikely.

Ramon had stayed. Now he couldn't possibly fly out until the morning. Maybe Jack could hold him off. Sexually teasing Ramon Salazar didn't seem like a safe option. But the thought of letting Ramon…of letting Ramon do what he'd threatened wasn't appealing. He almost panicked at the thought of Ramon's hands on him. And he knew how violent Ramon could be. What the whore had done—was Ramon planning more of _that_?

Jack's face flushed and he slowed. Ahead of him, Ramon walked on, oblivious that Jack was in crisis behind him. Using the wall for support, Jack worked to control the wave of anxiety that assailed him. Once it passed, Jack resolved to control his emotions. Whatever happened, Ramon would not see his fear. Whatever happened, he could survive this—if he cooperated. He had no choice. He quickened his pace and caught up to Ramon.

"Have a seat," Ramon told him matter-of-factly when they stood across from each other on either side of the large antique desk. "I need you to look at this. Hector sent it earlier this evening," Ramon added, shoving a trio of papers across the worn surface at him.

Jack had trouble shifting gears. The last thing he expected was routine work. A glimmer of hope that this is all there would be flickered as he stared at weapon specifications and large numbers of predicted inventory. Once he began to concentrate, he quickly scanned all the pages for evidence of exactly who was making the requisition. Besides some random markings in Arabic, there was nothing.

"You are going to make a lot of money," Jack concluded, looking up at Ramon, who was already smiling in satisfaction.

"Are the numbers realistic?" Ramon asked.

Jack wanted to know what small army they were supplying. "If they can pay," he assured. "Ramon, this is a hell of a lot of weaponry. Who the hell are these people?" he asked staring down innocently at the numbers.

"You'll meet them Jack," Ramon assured.

Jack's stomach sank. He knew that was unlikely.

"I've gathered them together carefully over the last year. The Benitez raid was the final hurdle. I needed that extra income for the upfront expenses."

Jack looked at the numbers. At the time, he'd thought the raid had been foolhardy…back then, greed was the only reason he could think of why they'd done it. Now it made sense. It also made sense that Ramon had decided to kill two birds with one stone that day by initiating Jack's final test at the same time.

Ramon was good at his job. He'd kept most of this from Jack while he'd juggled the players and simultaneously fucked with him. Maybe Jack should consider himself lucky he was still in this game with as skilled of an opponent as Ramon Salazar.…that Ramon hadn't figured it all out yet. Lucky-even in face of what he would have to do tonight to reach the finish line.

"Impressive, Ramon," he congratulated, not lying. "This is all very impressive."

Ramon couldn't suppress another smile at Jack's praise as he reached out to retrieve the papers Jack was handing back. And he couldn't help but notice that Jack's hand was trembling as he held them aloft. Shoving the papers into one draw, Ramon reached lower and opened a second. Before he lifted his hand to show Jack what was in it, he looked at him. Jack was watching him with concerned interest. No fear, no apprehension.

And that was why he respected Jack as much as he did. He had no delusions that Jack would be here if he didn't want the power Ramon was offering. Ramon respected him for being willing to do what it took. It's what he himself would do…had done…in the past when it had been necessary. He no longer had to prostate himself to men with more power. There were very few of those left. And soon Jack wouldn't either.

But even in his admiration, Ramon was not going to give him a reprieve. He was honest with himself about how much he wanted Jack. Probably more than he'd ever wanted any other man. From that first time Jack's wide eyes, full of pain during his early initiation, had challenged him, stared right at him, this urge had been building.

Ramon remembered vividly. Naked from the waist up, covered in sweat, mute and still with each blow, Jack had sensed Ramon the minute he'd walked into the barn. His head had risen immediately from his chest and his outstretched arms had tensed in the restraints. He'd blinked his eyes clear of sweat and wiped the blood pouring from a gash in his lip ineffectively against one shrugged shoulder before he'd met Ramon's eyes. He took the next two lashes without looking away.

Initially, he'd felt simple anger at the challenge. But as the moments ticked on and Jack's resolve remained steady, Ramon had seen that this was more than ignorant pigheadedness. Curiosity had replaced some of the anger. He had been unaware of the silence that had descended on the men in the room as he had approached Jack and stood only inches away.

The waning arc of sway of his suspended body from the last blow had brought Jack close to touching him. Ramon had reached out just before the contact and grabbed Jack's chin, stopping his swinging body. Still, Jack had not lowered his eyes. Then he did, after another tense moment, showing Ramon, with perfect timing, that he knew his place and knew he could only challenge so much. Ramon had roughly pushed Jack's head away and had caused the lithe body to swing again, the ropes audibly creaking with his weight in the quiet room.

"Cut him down," Ramon had ordered, turning on his heals and leaving the barn. He had held the satisfied smile until he was alone outside. He'd liked what he'd seen. It had been a long time since he'd felt this sort of challenge. It had excited him.

The respect and growing power Jack had garnered so quickly among the men after that had only added to the allure. He'd continued to test him because he was never quite certain why a man of Jack's talents had ended up on his ranch. Jack was like him in many ways. Because of that, it had taken a long time to trust him. But very early on, he had appreciated him.

Ramon brought his hand up and put the black leather pouch on the desk right in front of Jack, who saw immediately what it was. Jack stared at the fine black leather and Ramon actually felt sorry for him. He knew Jack didn't want it, but he needed it. Ramon would not want to be in his place. But as he knew he would, Jack's hand slowly reached for the kit. Once he had it, Jack stood quickly and walked away from Ramon, as if seeking privacy even though he wasn't alone in the room.

"It's okay, Jack," Ramon reassured. "If you need to, you need to."

Jack looked at Ramon sadly, resigned. Jack heard the closest thing to an apology that Ramon would ever give.

He went to the large leather sofa and sat slowly on one end. Feeling the heaviness of the drugs in his hands, not wanting to, but knowing he would use them, his fingers automatically reached for the small bronze zipper as he placed the kit on the large coffee table in front of him. The small tremor that was making the task slightly more difficult would soon be gone.

He felt utterly alone as he filled the small syringe and tied the tourniquet around his arm. His disgust with himself isolated him from Ramon, quietly watching from several feet away.

Ramon had been used to injecting Jack himself. He'd never seen Jack do it. Quietly he walked closer as Jack rolled up his sleeve and pressed the needle against the vein. Ramon watched Jack's face. He hadn't forgotten that each time he'd done this to Jack he'd been fascinated and turned on by the changes it induced in him. The vulnerability the drug created in the usually hard and closed Jack was enticing…and erotic.

This time was no different. In fact, it was better when Jack did it himself, when Ramon could watch from afar as he let his head flop back against the dark smooth leather of the cushion. His features relaxed and, for a few seconds, he was oblivious to everything but the high. Suddenly, then, Ramon found himself next to Jack on the sofa.

From a distance, Jack felt Ramon's weight come down next to him…too close to him. But the drug, momentarily, made him not care. Soon, he felt Ramon's lips on his neck. But he didn't move. He kept his eyes closed and let the drug make it okay that Ramon was kissing him, moving his lips sensually over the front of his outstretched neck and down to where his chest was exposed between the open top buttons of his shirt.

Ramon's hand released the tourniquet Jack had left dangling on his bicep and then lightly travelled down Jack's arm, pushing his sleeve down as well, covering the evidence of Jack's weakness. Jack swallowed hard and felt Ramon's lips ride up and over the prominence in his neck as it moved up and down. _Oh, God._

The hand moved off his arm to the first closed button of his shirt. Jack now coached himself to be still as that first button, then the second, third, and fourth, were freed and Ramon tugged the rest of his shirt from his pants. He knew he was beginning to breathe too hard, but he couldn't help it.

He felt Ramon's weight come more solidly across his chest as his hands simultaneously cupped his face hard. He kept his eyes closed as Ramon leaned in and put his lips on his own. Jack was shocked at how easy it was to open his mouth and let him in, now down from the high just enough to realize that had probably been Ramon's plan all along…to give him the heroin to relax. He couldn't help but be grateful. But then he wondered, without it, would he still be allowing this, or would he be pushing Ramon off him. Which would be better?

Ramon's taste was familiar, heavy with the same wine and cigar as Jack's own breath. And he was gentle. He eased in with his tongue and waited for Jack to respond. Much to his own surprise, Jack did. This was not much different than kissing a woman. And how many random whores had he been obliged to kiss in the last six months? Or was that the drug talking…or was that his psyche rationalizing what he was doing here, with Ramon?

But this _was_ different. Ramon was heavier. His hands on Jack's face were bigger and stronger and the kiss had more force than any he'd had with any woman. And Jack's hands remained limp on the sofa, unable to bring himself to embrace the body on top of him like he would naturally hold a woman.

Jack was saved from a forming swell of panic when Ramon broke away. Ramon raised up from Jack's chest and looked down at him. Jack realized they were both breathing hard. He hid the panic from his eyes and could only wonder what Ramon would see there instead.

Ramon was relishing the feel of Jack underneath him and that Jack had responded to the kiss. Below him, Jack was unreadable. Ramon knew he would go slowly—as long as Jack cooperated. He didn't want Jack to bolt…like some buck he was breaking. He wanted to bring him down gently, not have to force him. Ramon smiled slightly at the apt analogy and saw Jack looking at him, trying to understand the slight grin.

He slid off Jack to the side, his chest pressed tight against Jack's left arm, pinning it, as he used his left hand to finish off the last of the buttons on Jack's shirt. As many times as he'd seen Jack naked now, this was different. Undressing him slowly, Jack allowing it, knowing what was going to happen…it all made it different and better. Ramon was already too hard as he sensed Jack watching his hand as it pushed open his black cotton shirt, exposing his chest.

He saw Jack's abdomen moving up and down a little too fast and put his hand down below Jack's rib cage, letting it rest there, attempting to calm him. He couldn't help but think again of a skitterish horse. Under his hand, Ramon did feel Jack's breath slow and then felt the muscles relax as Jack let his head fall back on the cushion again, not watching anymore. Ramon paused a few seconds longer before he moved again-this time towards the buckle of Jack's leather belt.

Jack felt and knew where Ramon's hand was going. And he knew he had no choice but to let him-as much as he knew he wanted to stop him. He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling as Ramon undid the belt and the button on his pants. It was no easier with his eyes open…only more real. An eternity seemed to pass before Jack felt Ramon's hand move down, on top of his still closed fly, to tease his dick.

On instinct, Jack flinched. His control wavered. His free right hand sprang into action to protect himself. Jack instantly knew he'd erred, even as he contacted Ramon's hand and batted it away.

Ramon reacted quickly, grabbing Jack's wrist hard and pinning his hand painfully against his own genitals. Jack gasped.

"I've been gentle, Jack…so far," Ramon said in a threatening rumble,

"That can change," he continued.

Only now, Jack met his gaze. The anger in Ramon's voice was not reflected on his face. Jack knew very well how much that could change. That Ramon had been as slow and careful as he had been had already come as somewhat of a shock. He had an idea…oh hell, he had seen…how bad Ramon could make this for him. He unclenched the automatic fist that his captive hand had formed. In apology, he let his body relax, despite the pain he was in, unable to voice the words at the moment.

"Good, Jack," Ramon coached, releasing Jack's wrist.

Jack looked up again as Ramon's weight left the sofa and he positioned himself between Jack's legs. When Ramon's hands reached up and undid his zipper, Jack resolved to not loose control again. He'd lost hope that all the preamble to this, the touching, the sexual teasing, had been a bluff. He'd seen the desire in Ramon's eyes after he'd kissed him tonight.

Suddenly it occurred to him that this was not about punishment…that Ramon really wanted this…for himself.

Why, he couldn't fathom-yet another undecipherable facet of Ramon Salazar. But that it was going to happen was a certainty. And Ramon's threat was real. It looked like he could walk away from this unhurt if he didn't fight him. That's about all he could hope for…and that Ramon would be satisfied and not come back for more. But wait, he wouldn't be here for more. Small relief, considering.

Cool air entered through his open zipper. He felt Ramon's fingers close around his loosened waistband and knew that the main act was about to begin. He would not loose control.

Ramon was glad when Jack cooperated. He wanted this to be good…for both of them. As much as he wanted Jack, he also wanted Jack to have pleasure. Of course, his own pleasure came first. But there was some sort of challenging in bringing Jack along with him. Maybe it was proofing to the stubborn son of a bitch that he needed to take pleasure where he could get it. Now that he was his partner…or would be very soon…Jack needed to loosen up a bit, learn how to have more fun.

Jack had been obstinate at first with the whore. But he'd weakened. A man could only take so much no matter how hard he tried not to respond. Ramon wanted him to cum for him like he had for her. His dick swelled at the memory of what she'd done to Jack, of their coupling, and of Jack's face as he had climaxed and lost control.

He wanted Jack to lose control.

Chapter 14-The Salazar Ranch-Real Time

The complete silence of the surrounding dessert was a problem. Every small sound the men or weapons made seemed amplified to Chase's ears. Recon reports indicated that there'd been a lot of drunken revelry on the ranch last night. Chase could only pray that they were heavily into sleeping it off this morning.

He'd left several armed guards far in the back lines keeping close watch on the local police. At this point, a shouted warning wouldn't do Salazar much good, but it wouldn't help CTU at all. With radio silence in effect, Chase signaled with his hand to the unit leader to his right that they'd go in five minutes. He acknowledged and relayed the signal down the line.

To his left, Tony watched Chase and sent the same signal up the lines the other direction. A group of men broke off and headed silently towards the western assault point. Now everything was set. Their timing had been perfect. Just as the departing unit of men disappeared around the curve of the wall, the first faint rays of the sun broke over the distant horizon.

Jack thought he heard something. He sat up in bed. The tattoo burned accusingly on his forearm. The tattoo he had now earned by granting Ramon complete control…of everything…his life months ago…and last night his body. He felt nauseous.

He hadn't been able to sleep since returning from Ramon—even after fixing. He had been awake for hours wondering if he'd ever sleep peacefully again after what he'd allowed Ramon to do last night. Some boundaries in this job were vague, but he'd gone clearly over the line last night. He felt sick that he'd done it…and probably done it for little gain. Yes, Ramon would be on the ranch to be captured. But the big payoff, the one he'd survived those two weeks of hell to live for was never going to happen.

"Fuck them," he cursed aloud, damning Chapelle…and even Chase and Tony. They had no idea. They weren't here living this nightmare. They didn't know what it had taken to get where he was. Two fucking more weeks and all the players would have been here—all in one room. Arresting them would have been like shooting ducks in a barrel.

But now this operation was out of his hands. Even if he had found a way to contact Tony yesterday, he doubted they would have aborted the raid. Ryan had wanted to come in a month ago. Fucking Ryan.

Tony's note had said Sunday. Dawn would make the most sense. He hadn't taken a big hit so that he'd be alert at daylight. And thus he hadn't slept either.

He considered the raid again. An attack on Sunday at dawn would take everyone by surprise and find them at their weakest. The sun would eliminate the darkness that could only help Salazar's men, who knew every inch of the ranch by heart. They had to be coming soon.

The clock read 5:50am. Sunrise was just before 6:30 today. He'd checked. He rose and went to the window. The moon was hidden by clouds. There was nothing moving. Nevertheless, he went to the closet, found some clean clothes, and got dressed. He slipped a blade into his boot and his knife into his pocket. His fingers itched to feel the handle and trigger of a gun. He didn't feel ready without one.

He debated whether to go to Ramon first or to the armory when the action began. Ramon. He'd have an extra weapon stashed somewhere. Definitely Ramon. He paced anxiously a few minutes and peered out the window again. Still nothing. He sat down on the bed to wait. The raid had to be coming at sunrise.

The sound he had thought he heard earlier came again. It was soft, but years of military service had made the sounds of battle, even of men readying for battle, very familiar to his ears. Boots scuffing in dirt, clips being loaded, the sounds of equipment being moved were almost silent…unless you were listening for them.

The first shout came from a sentry calling the alarm. A series of shots followed. Jack bolted out the door towards the main house. Above all, he needed to keep Ramon alive. As he ran, the ranch came to life around him. He heard men shouting. More gunfire came from the south wall. Then he heard more distant shots to the west. A two pronged attack.

They had thirty two men on the ranch this morning-not counting him, Tomas, and Ramon. He hoped Chapelle was coming with enough. He'd sabotaged as much of the heavier weapons as he could yesterday without drawing suspicion. But he'd had no time to get to the small arms and ammunition. The ranch men had the home field advantage and a set plan in place. CTU had surprise, hopefully numbers, and better equipment. With a helicopter or two, Jack would say that they were probably the favorites.

Jack wasn't going to be doing much in the way of field command today except pretending and if anything, hindering. But there were several men, including Tomas, who could serve adequately in his place. He didn't want the Salazar men to be victorious, but he also did not want them to die. He'd try to prevent that if he could, but he already would have his hands full.

"Jack," Tomas shouted from behind him as if on cue. "Where are you going? We need to get to the armory…the men."

The sound of gunfire was growing louder. "I need to tell Ramon something. I have an idea of who's behind this. You get to the men. I'll be there in a minute."

Tomas finished zipping his pants and hitching his belt and acknowledged Jack before running towards the bunkhouse. Jack ran off in the opposite direction. He found Ramon emerging from the house.

"What's happening?" he asked.

"A raid."

"Who? We have little here," Ramon assessed. "Most all the Benitez heroin is gone. Our shipments are well hidden at the other house. What could they want?"

Jack knew Ramon was also thinking _Who would dare?_ "That's why I'm here, not with the men. Ramon," he said dramatically, "I think they are here for you."

"For me?" he asked incredulous. As if he never considered that he might be vulnerable to personal attack. The other cartels were all too weak to be viable threats.

"I think that nephew, Benitez's brother's kid might be behind this." Jack was speaking quickly to prevent Ramon interrupting. "I know we discounted him as a problem when we were planning. But maybe we underestimated him. Maybe Benitez and the nephew had stronger alliances. The other cartels may not have liked that one of them was attacked without provocation. This may be a group effort."

"You said the nephew was of no concern," Ramon said accusingly.

"I know, Ramon. I may have been wrong. You can take it out on me after this is over." After last night, he suspected Ramon would be all too happy to find a new way to punish him. But Jack knew he was safe from revenge. He'd either be dead or Ramon would be in custody after this was over.

"But first we have to win this. I can't see who else would have the balls to do this…attack the Salazar compound," Jack declared, playing Ramon's ego.

"So how does that change our standard defense plan?" Ramon asked, accepting Jack's assessment for now.

"It doesn't," Jack said. A grenade exploded on the other side of the compound. "I just want to make sure you are protected."

"You expect me to stay in the house and hide…like a woman? Not defend my home?"

Jack would like that, but he knew it was unlikely. "No, of course not Ramon. But if you would, fight next to me so I can watch your back. I don't want any diversions or tricks that would isolate you. I won't let that happen." Jack felt like some fictional knight offering his life for his king. But Ramon was buying it, especially now that he thought Jack was his lap dog.

"Alright Jack, we'll stay together. Maybe it's your back that will need protecting."

"Maybe," Jack agreed, knowing Ramon needed to show that he did not believe he was in danger and had no fear of what was about to come. He couldn't acknowledge that he might need or want Jack's protection.

"Do you have an extra gun?" Jack asked. "I don't want to cross the compound unarmed."

He followed Ramon back inside. Jack briefly considered knocking him out and tying him up, well hidden in the basement. But soon they both would be missed and Ramon wouldn't be tied up for long and Jack would be instantly dead. Ramon handed him a weapon.

"What's going on?"

Claudia appeared in her nightgown, her eyes wide with fear.

Ramon ignored her and headed towards the door.

"We're under attack. We don't know who. Get dressed and stay inside the house and away from the windows," Jack ordered. Claudia said nothing, just stood there, looking stunned.

"Claudia," Jack said harshly trying to break into her fright induced trance, "do you hear me? STAY IN THE HOUSE."

"Yes…okay…I will."

"We'll send in the wounded. Get the supplies ready." She seemed to respond to having something to do and came to life. Jack turned to leave.

"Jack," she called out to him desperately, grabbing at his hand. The cold stare from last night was gone. The fear was filling her eyes with heart felt emotion.

"I'll be careful, Claudia," he smiled reassuringly at her. He squeezed her hand and went quickly to catch up to Ramon.

Arriving at the barn, he saw that most of the men were dressed and armed and several were slowly advancing towards the wall with ladders. Jack had had masons create several niches in the wall so they could see through the high and thick barriers to the outside and still be protected.

Another explosion sounded not far away. A puff of smoke and dust arose from the section of wall forty meters to their left. CTU was bringing down a section to breach the barrier and create a way inside.

One of their men had reached the wall and was peering out into the dark outside.

Jack looked at Ramon who in turn, pressed against the wall of the barn, was watching the besieged section of wall. "Stay here and watch. Tell me if they make any more progress."

Ramon nodded. At least in most military matters, Ramon usually deferred to Jack's judgment. Ramon would not choose today to exert his control in that area as well. Too much was at stake. That would make Jack's job much easier.

Jack bolted across the open space between the barn and the wall. Another explosion sounded on the other side of the fence a few hundred meters away. If he was planning on winning this, he'd split the men at this point to defend a probable breach on the west side. Not doing that would be his first planned oversight.

"Diego," he shouted reaching the foot of the ladder, "what have we got?"

"I'm not sure, Jack, it's still too dark. But it looks like there are a lot of them," he replied raising his gun and aiming out into the dark.

Five other men had reached other niches and were doing the same. An exchange of shots began between those on the inside and those on the outside. Behind him, closer to the armory and then again on the other side of the barn, two teams were setting up small mortar cannons. Jack wasn't worried…those weren't going to work.

Jack noticed he could see the men moving around him much better in the improving light. "Get down Diego. The sun is coming…let me take a look." Diego passed Jack his automatic weapon as they exchanged places. "Find me field glasses," he ordered. Diego ran off.

Peering out with his naked eye, he could only see that CTU had indeed brought numbers. He fired a few shots high into the air for effect. To his far left he could see a small gathering at the wall working on the breach. Oversight number two—he wouldn't be lofting grenades their way.

Tomas appeared at his feet. "Jack, I'm taking five men over to the other side. They're trying to come in from the west too."

Tomas had five of their best men in a jeep complete with grenades and a mounted gun. Damn. "Okay," Jack had no choice but to agree, otherwise he'd be just giving himself away, "but leave Oscar here and take someone else, I need him." Those men were going to be isolated and exposed. He didn't want the kid being one of them.

He had to protect Ramon. He wanted to protect Claudia and Oscar.

Tomas eyed him, confused, but followed orders.

Diego arrived with the binoculars. Jack turned to Oscar. "Oscar, go behind the barn and stay with Ramon and the men waiting there for deployment. No one moves until I get back. I need to see which direction to move the men."

Oscar obeyed without a word. The battle was unnerving him far more than Ramon could right now.

With the five minutes that had passed bringing more light and the aid of the binoculars, Jack saw that the Salazar's cause was already lost. They were outnumbered by CTU bodies alone. But Jack saw dozens of men and vehicles that had to belong to local or Mexican federal law enforcement.

Although he had screwed the mission, Chappelle wasn't fucking around with the raid. But then again, this would be Chase's doing. Chase would not let CTU go in unprepared. Jack should have known that.

Now Jack's job was clearly not to help CTU win…they had that covered…but to keep down loss of life on the inside…including his own. He jumped off the ladder, handed the gun back to Diego and sprinted back to the barn-only to find he was the second bearer of bad news. Tomas had doubled back and was in the middle of providing his own assessment.

"…too well equipped…and too many." Jack heard him conclude.

Ramon swung on Jack, fury blazing in his eyes. "Did you hear that Jack? Federales? And you thought it was that impotent Benitez kid?"

Jack didn't respond to Ramon's anger, but to the threat to the ranch. "That's what I was coming to tell you. They're a well equipped military force. I can't tell who, I couldn't make out any markings…"

"And you didn't see this coming Jack? Isn't that your fucking job?" Ramon interrupted accusingly. The men around them, the reserves waiting to join the battle, were all watching this confrontation with some interest. Although they were not ignoring the threat the gunfire all around posed to them.

Jack's own eyes blazed. He'd had it with this son of a bitch. Arrogant, full of himself, heartless son of a bitch. "It wasn't like I was free to do my job the last two weeks Ramon," he actually yelled at Ramon, managing to sneer and exaggerate Ramon's name.

Although it was becoming necessary to shout to be heard over the increasing din of the battle, Jack was actually screaming with rage. "I had to prove myself to you. Well, I proved that I can't keep the ranch secure while I'm high and locked up." He didn't add beaten and sexually abused.

Ramon jumped him and slammed Jack's back against the peeling paint of the barn. Every man around them had shifted their full attention away from the larger battle to this one. Both men glared at each other in silence, chests heaving. No one witnessing this thought that Jack was going to survive this day, even if by some miracle they did pull out a victory.

"You can kill me here and now Ramon," Jack seethed. "Or you can let me try to save all our asses and then you can do it later."

Ramon smiled maliciously. The men watched as he leaned toward Jack and said something quietly that only Jack could hear over the melee. The rage returned to Jack's eyes. He said nothing but he actually had the balls to put his hands on Ramon's chest and push him away. Not hard by any means, but still, he had physically pushed Ramon Salazar.

Several of the men had renewed interest in making sure they won this fight today so the battle between Ramon and Jack could continue. They wanted to see what happened next.

Jack stood and turned his anger onto those same men. "Stop cowering behind this fucking barn. You three, over there," he ordered to the three closest, one of them Oscar's father, planning to direct them towards the now almost complete breach. "Hide behind the water tank and try to limit the flow of men in when they finish blowing the wall open."

"The rest of you, except you and you," he said pointing to Oscar and Pablo, the two teenagers, "go with Tomas and do the same with the west breach. All of you listen for the signal for retreat if it comes…" Ramon glared. "Or the order to advance," Jack added, placating Ramon, knowing that order would never come. As if for dramatic confirmation, two wounded men, supporting each other, limped past, on their way to the house for medical attention.

"And we are to stay cowering here like women, Jack?" Ramon sneered.

Jack knew just about anything he did or said was going to draw scorn from Ramon. He'd give anything to be able to just shoot the son of a bitch right here, right now and call it a day. Especially after the whispered threat of what he was going to do to him later if they lived to see the sunset

What Jack never understood was how Ramon could threaten men, or how men knew what he had done to their friends and coworkers, and yet have them remain loyal and productive for him. If Ramon had any gift except for cruelty and ruthlessness, it was the incredibly misplaced, warped sense of loyalty he inspired.

"No Ramon. We are going to try to get out." Escaping through the emergency tunnel was unlikely to prove successful. Jack had seen a jeep patrolling far out in the distance. The tunnel opened into a small group of trees only fifty yards out. He was only doing this to prevent a random bullet from striking their group and to occupy Ramon.

He had wanted and planned to keep his cover intact even after they'd been captured. A worried Ramon, facing jail and a trial might confide something to Jack that he might not otherwise. The chances were small but existed none the less. But if they did manage to elude the patrols, he could always arrest Ramon on his own and drag his ass back here.

"I'm not leaving my ranch and my men to run."

"Then you will die or be captured," Jack said bluntly.

"What about your military prowess, Jack? Won't that save us in the end?" Ramon goaded.

"Only if I had at least forty more men and far more weaponry. There comes a point when number and firepower advantage is simply insurmountable. We are at that point. You didn't let me finish before. Out there is a well trained army of at least 75 men. They have heavy artillery if they want to use it and beyond that, I saw two attack helicopters landing.

Ramon looked down as he remembered hearing the sounds of choppers.

"They want you badly Ramon, whoever they are." Jack saw Oscar eye him suspiciously and thought the boy might be piecing this together with what had happened Friday night. But he couldn't worry about that right now. Jack didn't want to, but if he had to he could take the kid out before he gave Jack away to Ramon.

Realizing what he'd just considered doing, Jack looked at Oscar. He disgusted himself that he could think about killing Oscar so readily. This place had warped him. With difficulty, he put that consideration aside, knowing that after this was over, he'd have to wrestle with it.

"If you want to sit here and hand yourself over to them, fine, I will go over to the wall and fall on my sword for you, as will all the other men."

Ramon rose and turned toward the house, the cellar, and the tunnel.

"I didn't think so," Jack said sarcastically to his retreating back. Ramon turned and glared. Jack could see him planning his revenge on him. "Oscar, go with him. Stay alert," Jack ordered, ignoring Ramon's scathing look. "I'll be there in a second."

When Oscar and Ramon were far enough away, he grabbed Pablo by the elbow and walked him the other way. "Do you trust me Pablo?" he asked. He knew Pablo did. He was a good soldier but not a good thug. He had become a sort of student of Jack's in the field and showed great potential as a soldier. Jack had always wished he'd been training him for a better cause.

"Yes, Jack," the kid answered, calm and serious.

"I'm going to get Ramon out of here. But I don't want all the men to die. This raid, these people out there, they're military and police. If we surrender, they won't kill everyone once they have us like another cartel would."

Pablo's eyes went wide in shock. "Surrender?" He said the word like he didn't understand the meaning.

"Pablo, we surrender or we all die fighting. There is no doubt." He stared the boy down until he softened.

"Okay," Pablo acknowledge, his shoulders already slumping in defeat.

"Go to all the men and tell them to lay down their arms. Tell Tomas that this was Ramon's order. He will believe you. Once the shooting stops, Tomas must surrender the ranch."

Pablo opened his mouth to argue but Jack preempted him. "Go. There is no time. Do it." Jack turned on his heels and ran towards the house.

Once in the house, he ran past Claudia, tending to the wounded in the dining room, and paused momentarily. She looked at him. He felt a surge of emotion riding atop everything that had happened in the last twenty four hours. Everything would be different in just a few minutes. If he couldn't keep his cover, then she would know. The last month he'd been wondering whether she was someone who he could be with 'on the outside.' Soon he'd know.

When she came towards him he turned away to avoid saying anything and ran to the basement. If he had the time, he might try to explain in advance. But he didn't have that luxury.

Oscar met him at the bottom of the stairs. Jack saw Ramon disappear into the tunnel. "Jack," Oscar began anxiously. "I…I…told"

"You told them-Tony- about the tunnel." Oscar had made the connection. And he hadn't said anything to Ramon.

Oscar nodded.

"I figured. Don't worry." Jack pushed Oscar towards the entrance. This was even easier. If there were men guarding the exit, he would be arrested with Ramon immediately and his cover would be intact. More than he could have hoped for.

Poor Oscar looked very confused. Jack realized while he probably had figured out the attack had something to do with Tony; he hadn't put Jack on the other side yet, on Tony's side. He still thought Jack was really trying to help Ramon escape. He'd enlighten him later. Or Tony would when he sprang him from whatever jail cell he was eventually routed to.

Five minutes later, when they emerged into the low, heavy brush, Jack was relieved to hear that the gunfire behind them was significantly diminished. Ramon was dismayed to hear footsteps advancing towards them and stood as if he was planning to fight his way out.

Jack shook his head vehemently in Ramon's direction. Maybe he should have been more worried about protecting Ramon from Ramon. After a pause, instead of raising his weapon, he followed Jack's lead and dropped to the ground. Jack realized they hadn't been spotted yet…the small group of military police must have just arrived at the stand of trees, or, they hadn't been sure of the exact location of the door. It was well hidden.

They advanced surprisingly far on their bellies, almost to the edge of the thicket, before Jack heard the soldiers almost directly behind him, completing their sweep of the small wood. _ Thank God_, he thought. In the next minute they would have had to stand and then attempt a sprint across wide opened ground. They'd have been easy targets.

"Halt. Drop the guns. Now. And stay down," ordered a deep voice in English. The order was repeated in Spanish.

Jack had risen to his knees with his gun in his hand. "Drop it!" a voice commanded. He did immediately. Ramon was slower to comply. For a harrowing second, Jack thought Ramon was planning to take out one of the soldiers in the act of committing his own suicide-by means of their guns. Jack could just envision Ramon planning to go out in a blaze of glory.

Oscar had dropped his weapon at the same time Jack had. Both of them looked frantically at Ramon. He could get all three of them killed. Finally Ramon reconsidered. Jack knew that capitulation was not something Ramon was well practiced in. He was relieved that Ramon was able to do it at all. Ramon cursed in Spanish as he surrendered his weapon.

"Hands behind your heads and don't move a muscle," they were ordered, this time only in Spanish.

As the three of them knelt in the tall grass, hands frisked them roughly and took up their discarded weapons.

"On your feet, hands behind your heads."

When they stood, Jack was able to count six men with three sets of uniforms. Three were local Mexican police. They bowed their heads when Ramon glared threateningly at them. They knew to pray that Ramon never returned. Two looked like Mexican drug enforcement. Ramon had no effect on them. The uniformed CTU agent was staring at Jack, not Ramon. Jack prayed he knew enough not to blow his cover.

"What the fuck are you staring at," Jack snarled to remind him that he was under cover and was to stay that way. Jordan Hill—that was the guys name Jack suddenly remembered. Jack had hired him just before this mission. "Fuck," he added under his breath. The agent kept his mouth shut, looked away and dropped back, letting them be led away by the Mexican federales.


	8. Chapter 15 and 16

In Mexico Chapter 15 and 16

Chapter 15

The jeep ride was quiet and fast. Jack and Oscar were in one car, Ramon in the other. They passed by the wall breach that had been successfully completed in their absence. Through the hole, Jack could see several of his…no not his anymore…Ramon's men with their hands on their heads. The main gate was opened by two local police. Jack saw their faces when they saw Ramon drive by in the jeep. Fear, plain and simple.

As the jeeps slowed to a stop, he saw Tony. Seeing him, there was no relief at this being over, just anger that he hadn't been allowed to finish. He glared at Tony. Tony stared back, confused by Jack's expression. As they were herded off the jeep, he saw Tony approaching. He dropped his eyes to the ground and shook his head, signaling Tony to stay away.

Maria had seen him first. "Tony, there he is," she had announced. They'd been inside the wall with the majority of CTU's forces for several minutes now without sign of Jack, Ramon, or Hector. Tony had known it was too early to panic, but he had begun to panic never the less. Without those three, this would be a disaster.

Tony wasn't sure which man Maria was seeing. His relief was immense when he turned and saw both Jack and Ramon Salazar…and next to them their friend Oscar. Oscar was looking the other way, Ramon was staring straight ahead, but Jack looked right at him.

Jack looked different. Thinner, tanner, his hair longer and blonder. Well, six months had passed. But somehow the thinness did not look all that good. When he looked at Tony, Tony didn't see his friend. His eyes were cold. Jack was distant and angry even from afar.

When he walked toward him and Jack shook his head, Tony realized immediately he wanted to stay under cover. No one who didn't know Jack would suspect him as an agent. Jack looked as fierce and feral as any of these men.

He walked back to where Maria stood gaping. "Is that Jack?" she asked for confirmation. She'd only seen pictures, having been brought aboard just for this terminal mission. The man in the pictures had not been smiling, but his handsome features and blue eyes had been warm. Warm was the last word she'd use to describe the man in the weathered work shirt, jeans, and heavy boots that had jumped off that jeep.

"I…" she paused, "I pictured him different," she finished vaguely.

"He is," Tony said abruptly and walked away. He didn't want to discuss Jack right now, not with Maria who didn't know him. He suddenly wished that Michelle was here so he could talk with her about this. She'd always had better insights about Jack and what motivated him than he'd ever had. But of course, it was easy to want her here now that the danger had passed. If it had been her in that bar, forced to take Oscar to her bed…well, this mission might not have turned out as well.

He stopped and turned. "Maria, head to the house with some agents. Search it and clear it out. And see if you can find out anything about Hector. Oh, and about Jack…he's staying embedded for now. Warn all our agents not to blow his cover."

"Okay, Tony," was all she said. She had spent enough time with Tony to know when he was stressed out. He was stressed out.

He put the comm unit to his mouth. "Ryan?"

"Yeah," Chapelle answered from his post at the base camp.

"We have Jack and Ramon."

"Alive?"

Tony's blood boiled. Heartless son of a bitch. "Yes, alive." Tony kept the irritation out of his voice. "But no Hector yet. We're searching the house and then we'll try to ask Jack. But he wants to stay under. So I have to be careful."

"Well, when you do get to him, ask him why the hell he didn't call us for two weeks. He'll have to answer for that."

Tony didn't bother responding. Maybe the best thing he could do for Jack was to bring Ryan in here and see these men and this place. Then he could take him to Los Rios and show how everyone lived with the oppression and fear of Ramon Salazar. But maybe even that wouldn't get through to that thick headed asshole. The best he could do would be to run interference for Jack when the debriefing started and questions were asked that couldn't be answered. Tony had a feeling there'd be a lot of those.

He saw Chase coming.

"How did we do?" Tony asked about casualties.

"Three gunshot wounds, none life threatening, and several shrapnel injuries. All in all, very good considering what could have happened."

"What do you mean?"

Chase had seen Jack being led as a prisoner towards the detention area. He had been incredibly relieved to see him but had passed by, knowing it was not the right time to greet his boss.

"Jack must have been very busy yesterday. All their heavy equipment is disabled." Chase pointed at an abandoned launcher visible past the barn. "A few of those mortar rounds would have significantly increased our casualties. The kid must have gotten the warning to him. Good work Tony," Chase congratulated.

In the chaos of the night and morning, Tony had forgotten to wonder about the note he'd given Oscar. He was glad the gamble had noticeably paid off.

They both looked towards the side of the barn where all the prisoners were being gathered. Jack, Ramon, and Oscar were still off to the side with their own small group of guards. Most of the other men had been cuffed and were sitting in small clusters along the long wall of the structure.

"Is he okay?" Chase asked.

Tony knew that Chase had sensed something wrong just as he had.

Tony didn't have a chance to respond before a loud cry sounded into the tense atmosphere of the compound. He watched from thirty meters away as the boy, Oscar, broke free from the guard next to him and sprinted a few meters to where three bodies had been laid out, just to the side of the growing collection of prisoners.

One of the bodies was Oscar's father. As much as the boy resented what he had done, the man was still his father and the last of his family still left to him.

Jack tightened as he felt the Mexican guards stiffen in alert around him, wary even though the boy, in his obvious grief, clearly posed no threat to any of them.

Suddenly Jack realized that all of the men who Jack had sent to defend the nearer breach were among those bodies—including the elder Ordonez. He'd sent Oscar's father to his death. This nightmare was never going to fucking end.

The guards remained at the ready, but at least had the compassion to let the boy grieve a few moments. But only a few moments. To Oscar, though, the time was just not enough. He needed to mourn the loss of his mother, his father, and the life he had left behind when he'd come to the ranch.

And then there was the knowledge that he'd done this. He had given Tony and Maria the information so that they could come here and kill his father. Rage at Tony, the federales, his father, Ramon…at everyone, consumed him. When he felt the hand take his thin arm to drag him away from his father's body, he fought back.

He didn't think how hopeless this fight was. In a rare moment for Oscar, he wasn't thinking at all. He punched and kicked at the first, and then the second man who tried to restrain him. When they backed off, without a second's hesitation, he charged the closer guard.

Jack saw all this happening as if in slow motion. He saw the disaster coming before the participants even began to play their roles. Without waiting, he lunged towards the nearest guard, the one who had already had his gun at the ready, already aiming at Oscar. He heard the shot just before his shoulder impacted the sturdy body. In that instant he knew he had been too late, but he turned for confirmation anyway.

Oscar was still standing; his eyes and mouth wide open in shock and pain. But the red stain spreading across his chest was clearly fatal. For Jack, the world stopped in that moment. The hopeless futility of this one last death paralyzed him as he watched Oscar's long legs buckle beneath him.

The moment stopped only when Jack felt a blow between his shoulder blades and fell hard to the ground. A boot followed to his abdomen. He wished that they had simply shot him too.

Chase and Tony were moving at the same instant as Jack. From thirty meters away, they had no chance of saving Oscar, but of the men around Jack, only they knew that he was an agent.

"No, STOP," Tony screamed as two of the Mexican agents raised their rifles. One poised to strike a blow to Jack's chest with the stock, the other planning a more final blow with a bullet. The agents paused just long enough for Chase and Tony to reach them. Each of the CTU agents restrained one of their Mexican counterparts.

As the moment of crisis passed, both Chase and Tony realized they had just blown Jack's cover. Tony saw the entire collection of Salazar's men, including Ramon himself only several meters away, staring with unabashed amazement at their frantic reaction to a threat to a man who was supposedly just another prisoner.

Tony knew it was too late to backtrack now. Jack was out.

He bent down to the still figure at his feet. Hell, let Jack be angry. In truth, he was relieved for his friend. Enough was enough…and by the appearance of Jack's bruised face, his thin body, and his off the handle behavior, Jack looked like he'd had enough.

"Jack," Tony asked, touching him on the shoulder, "are you okay?" He reached out to help him up.

Jack felt the hand on him but didn't really register the voice. His mind was still on Oscar. And like Oscar in his last moments, his thoughts were crowded by rage. He let the hands guide him to his feet. When he was steady, he was surprised to be looking directly into Tony's concerned face. Tony-who had come down here uninvited. The man who had used Oscar to get to him.

Instantly, wordlessly, Jack's hands grasped roughly onto Tony's shirt. He stepped threateningly into the bigger man. Under Jack's force, Tony stumbled backward until Chase intervened. Chase saw Jack's unfocused fury and moved before the brunt of that fury came down on Tony.

"Jack!" he called, "Jack! Calm down." He grabbed at Jack's shoulder and arm and pushed him back. Under his hands, he felt Jack's hard muscles pause and then slowly relax. But Jack didn't let go of Tony. He didn't relax the murderous look on his face.

Tony stood still and let Chase do the talking, stunned by Jack's rage. He'd seen Jack angry before, but never, nothing like this.

"Jack, it's okay, it's over," Chase said quietly. Chase was scared for Jack. The man in front of him seemed foreign. He was suddenly glad they'd broken his cover. Jack was obviously in too deep.

Jack heard him. But he knew this would never be over. And it wasn't okay. He peered down at his arm, at the little bit of blue ink that was visible below his sleeve. He looked back up at Chase. And he let go of Tony.

For once, Ramon Salazar was not the center of attention on the ranch. All eyes, including Ramon's were focused on the two American agents and Jack. He'd seen them protect Jack. Ramon had heard the younger one call Jack by name. And now he watched as Jack turned away and went to Oscar's body—unmolested and unhindered by any agent, policemen, or guard.

Ramon knew what this meant, but he was too stunned to process it intellectually. Instead, he stood dumbfounded like each and every one of his remaining men and watched Jack slowly close Oscar's eyes and straighten out his tangled, lanky body. Then he picked him up and laid him gently next to his father.

When Jack stood, he was in control again and could do what he had to do. He looked at Chase and Tony to let them know he was okay. He walked resolutely towards the very same guards who minutes before had been holding him prisoner. One still held the plastic ties he had just been about to put around Jack's wrists. Jack took them from his hand and pushed past him.

In two steps, he was standing face to face with Ramon. Both men's faces were neutral as they stood quietly staring at each other. This time, for the first time, it was Jack that broke the silence with an order.

"Turn around, Ramon, you're under arrest."

Jack raised the bindings in front of Ramon's face. Finally Ramon reacted. Ramon smiled. He'd been outwitted and outplayed. And for that, he had to respect Jack. He turned around as ordered. But the smile disappeared when the hard reality of the bindings came to rest tightly around his wrists.

Jack felt Ramon tense as he finished tightening the ties. The sun had just broken over the opposite wall and Jack saw Ramon squint into the glare then lower his head to avoid it. Jack, at that moment, drew very close behind him. He left his hand on Ramon and tugged hard on the tie, causing it to dig painfully into Ramon's wrist. Ramon gasped softly.

"Who's fucked now, Ramon?" Jack asked scornfully into his ear. Jack paused, leaning his weight against Ramon, feeling his own heart pound against the still, warm back.

"You remember earlier, when you told me what you were going to do to me tonight…you know, after this was over? Well it's over. And I'm going to make sure you're in a Federal prison where you'll be treated to that daily." He stood there letting the threat sink in, breathing hard on Ramon's neck, letting him feel helpless and controlled.

"Agent Bauer," a voice called.

Jack didn't answer right away. He held his face close to Ramon's. He smelled sweat and the fading scent of his aftershave, amazed and dismayed at how familiar it all was.

This was the end of the mission in Mexico. He was glad. He didn't want to feel familiarity to this animal.

Jack took a step back, putting distance between himself and Ramon. "Yeah?" he finally answered the waiting junior agent, looking his way, but keeping his hand in contact with his prisoner.

"The transport is here-if you're ready, sir."

He was ready.

"Agent Bauer." Ramon said flatly as Jack came around to his side and took him roughly by the arm to lead him to the waiting armored truck. "Agent Jack Bauer, _sir_" he repeated, testing the name on his tongue, teasing the 'sir'. "So that's your name."

Jack said nothing. He'd been wondering how long Ramon would keep his mouth shut, how long the revelation would stun him into silence. It had already been longer than he'd predicted. Now Ramon would return to the offensive, pretending this was no more than a glancing blow.

Ramon turned to look at him as they reached the back doors of the transport. "You know that changes nothing. What you did here…for me…to yourself. What I did to you. That all happened; it's not going away."

Jack knew. "Shut the fuck up and get in the truck," he said simply in reply. The words felt good coming out—saying something to Ramon that before would have gotten him killed. But the words were just window dressing. Ramon, as usual, had struck to the core. The anger and despair that he was barely holding in check was not going away.

Two fully armed CTU agents acknowledged Jack and climbed into the truck after Ramon. From inside the dim interior, Ramon caught Jack's eye one last time. Their last silent battle of wills in Mexico ended as the truck doors slammed shut between them. But Jack had the satisfaction of seeing, through the last few inches before the door shut all the way, Ramon's face fall and his shoulders slump in defeat.

Jack released his breath and looked down at his dusty boots, then up at the still rising sun.

"Jack," Tony called behind him.

"Tony," he said. Then "Chase," as the younger agent approached too. Chase handed Jack his badge.

Jack looked at his picture and the gold star like he'd never seen them before, the silver chain spilling over his hand. "Thanks," he said softly, intending the small note of gratitude for more than being given his badge. As way of apology for attacking Tony, he offered a small smile and then his hand.

Tony shook his hand. His smile was wider and more heart felt than Jack's. "Glad you're back and okay."

"Yeah," Jack said, already distracted, seeing the compact group of 'his' men sitting under guard beyond Tony's shoulder. Some eyes were on him. Others quickly averted theirs when Jack looked their way. Some would not look.

Tony turned and saw what Jack saw. Jack's discomfort was palpable. Tony thought he was going to say something. But instead, he looked down at his feet and toed at the dirt under his boot. He glanced at the rag tag group of men once more. This time not a one would meet his eyes. He walked away without another word to his colleagues.

Both Chase and Tony saw all those dark eyes look up after Jack turned away and follow his progress towards the main house. A few looked confused, but most seemed filled with hate.

"I can't imagine…" Chase began and stopped. It wasn't his place.

"What?" Tony asked, trying to understand about Jack and this place…and what it was going to take to get Jack really back.

"What he must feel…betraying these men."

"What?" Tony repeated. "These men? They're Ramon's muscle…thugs and drug runners."

Chase shook his head. Tony wasn't the military type like him and Jack.

"You may not agree with their cause, Tony…and neither do I. But they are soldiers. Jack's men. He's been with them for six months. From what you told me about Oscar…" He paused remembering the boy's death. "He told you how much the men respected Jack. How well he had trained them."

"Today, he turned on all of them in the middle of a battle." Chase continued. "I know Jack…I've heard how he was in Special Ops. This has got to hurt…and hurt bad."

Tony had caught up. "Honor even among thieves," he whispered.

"For damn sure, if Jack had anything to do with it," Chase confirmed.

Both men stood there silently for a second. "I've got to go check on the men and clean up. Then start the inventory of the weaponry," Chase finally said.

"Yeah. And I have to find out where Hector is." Tony said. That wasn't a small detail. He'd give Jack a few minutes for whatever he was doing in the house, then ask. In the meantime, he would call Ryan and bring him up to speed with the events of the last fifteen minutes, knowing he would catch grief about not having grilled Jack about Hector yet.

Chapter 16

Maria and Claudia had established an uneasy truce. Agent Lopez had allowed her to continue to care for the handful of wounded men until they had a chance to evacuate them to medical care. But Lopez had demanded that all those without arm injuries be cuffed.

Lopez had concluded that Claudia posed no physical threat, despite the fact that she was bristling with indignation at the invasion of her home. Maria saw that despite the brave front, the woman was nervous and upset. She couldn't blame her.

"Agent Lopez," one of the uniformed agents reported to her, "the house is clear and secured."

"Thank you," Maria replied. "Tell Agent Ameida that the tech team can come in now. Leave me two men to guard the injured."

"Yes, maam."

The injured were stable, their wounds dressed. The woman, Claudia, had settled uneasily into a chair at the far end of the massive dinning room table. Next to her sat her young brother, his small sturdy body leaning into her for protection and comfort. Maria couldn't imagine a child on this ranch. She felt for the boy.

"Jack," Claudia exclaimed, pushing the boy off her chest and standing.

Maria had not seen him enter. Closer now, she could see the man in the picture in the tanned and hardened face. She saw Jack pull his eyes from the woman as he seemed to only now notice Maria. She was confused. Wasn't he under cover? But in his hand, she saw he held a CTU badge. That plan must not have worked out.

Jack's eyes bounced from woman to woman.

"Jack, " Claudia repeated. "What is happening? What happened outside?" She took several steps towards him. "Ramon and my father…where are they?"

Jack fidgeted nervously. Maria watched with interest, the warning about not exposing Jack's cover reverberating in her head. She knew he was out…but this woman did not. Maria saw a cloud of confusion cross Claudia's features as she realized all the other men were under arrest and under guard. But not Jack.

"Jack?" she said a third time, alternately scanning the faces of the two Americans.

"Agent Lopez," Jack said quietly.

They had never officially met. Should she nod? Should she say his name? Should she give him a report? "Yes?" She went simple.

"I need a moment with Claudia." Without waiting for Maria's permission, he reached for the woman's small arm.

Claudia had gone pale as reality had set in. She pulled away from Jack, stunned into silence. She looked down and saw the badge only partially concealed in his hand.

"No, Jack. That's not possible," she exclaimed, backing away from him.

"What's wrong, Claudia?" her brother asked innocently. He only saw his sister was upset. He stood and went towards Jack.

"Jack, where's Ramon and my father?" Jack had always been nice to him and Claudia.

"Get away from him, Sergio," Claudia demanded, pushing the perplexed boy gently back towards the chair.

"Claudia, please…in private." Jack pleaded

Claudia didn't look at him. "Sergio, stay here with the agent. I'll be right back."

"No, Claudia, I don't want to. I want to find Papa."

"Sergio!" Claudia shouted.

Jack intervened. "It'll just be a minute Sergio, I promise."

Sergio looked up at Jack. "Okay, but then will you take me to Papa?"

"Yes, Sergio," he agreed, addressing the boy without his eyes ever leaving Claudia's, "then we'll go find your father.

Maria had been trying to make herself small, disappear if possible. But at least the drama had pulled all their attention onto each other and they had forgotten her. She watched Bauer lead Claudia towards the back of the house. Sergio eyed her, the foreign woman, suspiciously as he sat back down in the oversized dining room chair.

She released the breath she'd been holding. This was a mission, for her, a very brief one. But the reality of being undercover for six months crashed down on her. It just wasn't about the good guys catching the bad guys. It was how you lived for months at a time. Jack had formed relationships. That this was bound to happen had never crossed her mind.

She granted Bauer his privacy and didn't stop to consider exactly what this relationship was. Claudia was a beautiful woman.

Tears already stained Claudia's face when Jack closed the bedroom door behind them.

"Let me see it," she said.

Jack was confused.

"The badge Jack—I want to believe this…let me see it."

Jack looked down at the badge in his hand. Claudia moved quickly and took it from him. Jack wasn't about to wrestle with her.

The tears flowed more freely as she studied his face and name on the small rectangular laminate. Jack's heart was breaking. His hand rose towards her face. He took a chance and did not stop it from finding her cheek. His thumb wiped gently at a falling tear.

"Jack Bauer. Special Agent. Counter Terrorist Unit," Claudia read aloud.

"All this time and I didn't even know your real name." She dropped the badge but didn't watch it land at his feet.

Her eyes were profoundly sad. Jack wanted to hug her and assure her that it would all be okay. But it was Claudia who would decide that. She was the one who had been lied to.

She pushed his hand roughly away from her face and turned from him. Jack said nothing as she walked to the window and looked out at the chaos in the courtyard.

"I wanted to tell you," he began after a few moments. "But I couldn't. You knowing…it would have been dangerous for you. I couldn't put you in that position."

"You couldn't trust me?" she accused despite knowing he was right about the danger knowing would have put her in.

"If I could trust anyone, it was you. But…" Jack stopped trying to explain. He was in enough constant danger, added worry that she would turn or slip was a risk he was never willing to take. Even though he had longed each night they were together to be himself with her—to feel a little less foreign at least for those short times.

"I should have known." She thought about how gentle he'd been, how he'd always cared what she wanted. He'd never hit her. "You were never like the others. I just wanted that. I never stopped to consider why."

"Claudia," Jack approached her from behind and put his hands on her hips, urging her to turn to him. He was crestfallen when he felt her stiffen.

"Get away from me, Jack."

"Claudia, please."

"Out there, in those vans, my father is under arrest. Because of you. Hector will go into hiding. Because of you. How am I going to live?"

She turned to him. There was no understanding for him in her beautiful face. Still, Jack tried. "I said I would get you out. I meant that. You and Sergio can leave with me. Today."

She studied his face. Finally she spoke. "I don't know who you are."

She didn't give Jack a chance to respond before she turned and quickly left the room.

"Where's Jack?" Tony asked as soon as he entered to find Maria guarding a young boy.

"He's in the back talking with someone. He'll be back in a minute," Maria answered vaguely.

"Who?" Tony asked.

Just then, Claudia reappeared alone. Maria saw her trying to wipe away too many tears to cover that she'd been crying. Tony was baffled.

"Claudia, can we go find Papa now?" Sergio jumped to his feet. "Where's Jack?" he added peering around the corner from which she'd come.

"I'll go find him," Tony volunteered.

Tony wandered only a minute around the house before he found him in one of the bedrooms. Jack was sitting on the bed looking out the window. Outside, the chaos was diminishing as each potential surprise or bobby trap was eliminated and nerves, on both sides, settled down.

"Are you…" He stopped himself from asking if Jack was okay. He wasn't. And Tony didn't want to make him say the lie. Jack hadn't turned around and looked at him. The woman had been crying. He didn't want to know if Jack was too.

"I need to know where Hector Salazar is." Tony came to the point.

"He's been off the ranch for a few days." Jack stopped. "Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you have Agent Lopez take the boy to his father? He deserves that. And the father…he's a good man."

"Okay, Jack. And Hector?"

Jack stood and faced Tony. His eyes were dry. But a thin layer of perspiration had formed on his face. And Tony thought he saw a fine tremor in Jack's hands as he dropped the chain attached to his badge around his neck.

"Yeah, come on, I'll show you where he was supposed to be, just outside Buenos Aires. By now, he's heard about the raid from one of the local policemen you had here today. He'll be long gone."

Tony nodded his head. At least they had Ramon.

Jack tried to walk past Claudia without looking. But as much as he knew it would hurt, he couldn't stop himself.

Her eyes went immediately to the badge, which now hung from his neck like every other generic American agent that swarmed and invaded her home. She hadn't softened since she had left the bedroom.

With the advantage of time, Jack thought he could sway her. But, once again, he didn't have that advantage. He looked away without saying goodbye. Even if he never saw her again, he hoped she eventually found a way to forgive him.

Jack kept going, out of the dinning room, through the foyer and out onto the porch. Tony followed silently at his heels. He knew he needed to take Tony to Ramon's office. The records, the computer, the chain of evidence…all that was crucial to their case. But right now, all he could think about was Claudia and how badly he wanted a fix. 


	9. Chapter 17 and 18

Chapter 17 and 18

Chapter 17

Hours later, Maria was more than ready to go home. She was looking forward to a closet full of her own cloths and the privacy and comfort of her own bed. And speaking English again would be nice.

She stepped out of the Salazar house onto the expansive front porch, an ice cold bottle of water in her hand. Now that the courtyard was quiet, devoid of all the men and activity of earlier today, and the scorching afternoon heat had begun to dissipate, she could appreciate how pretty the house and grounds were. What was ugly was the way the money that paid for all this was earned.

They, Jack, Tony, and her, had spent the better part of the afternoon combing through the cartel records, making sure that had all that they could find before they left the ranch behind. Even just having had the time to only scratch the surface, the depth of the cartel's infiltration and control was incredible. Much of the drug related information would be sent off to the DEA. It was the terrorist connections they wanted. Unfortunately, those records were sparser and more deeply buried.

Jack Bauer had not worked to hide his frustration at the timing of the raid, although he'd said little aloud. The entire day he'd been edgy and irascible. To Maria, he even appeared ill at times, sweating in the cool air conditioning, rubbing at a presumed headache, making frequent trips to the restroom. She hadn't had a chance to speak to Tony about him yet. But she thought he should see a doctor when they were back in LA.

Chapelle had flown back to LA with Salazar who was now safely ensconced in the Federal facility. She remembered the strange look on Jack's face when she'd announced this after Ryan had called her. Was it relief? Disbelief?

He'd left the room quietly. A few minutes later, carrying some records out to the truck, she'd caught a glimpse of him leaning heavily against a wall further along the hall, his head down. He'd looked so sad. She didn't understand why he didn't share the sense of relief and accomplishment the rest of them felt. If anyone should relish in this victory, it should be Jack. He'd done incredible work.

Finishing the last few drops in her water bottle, she headed back to the office, knowing the shorter the break, the faster they'd get out of here.

"You don't fucking understand."

The words weren't loud, but they were filled with vehemence. Enough so that Maria stopped in her tracks well short of the open double doors of the office.

"Then explain it to me Jack. You didn't contact us for over two weeks. I, for one, was convinced you were dead," Tony countered. "How do you think that felt, huh? Convinced we were going to spend our time here looking for your body? Just what the hell were we supposed to do?"

"Trust me," Jack growled. "Trust that I knew the fuck what I was doing. Instead of barging in here before I had it all."

Then his voice changed. "Two more fucking weeks, Tony. Two. The players would all have been here. We'd have had them all in our hands." His anger fueled frustration was palpable, radiating in waves even to her hiding place outside the doors.

"What do you mean?" Tony asked, staying calm in the face of Jack's anger.

She heard the desk chair creak as one of them sat heavily into it.

"I don't know the details. Ramon was just about to let me in." His voice quiet now, he seemingly paused to consider, yet again, how frustrated he was. "But before the end of the month there was going to be a conference…here, at the ranch. The terror groups he was working with were coming to draw up agreements…and talk weaponry. That's all I know."

"Is that here somewhere, in these records?" Tony asked hopefully, the significance of what Jack was saying making his words more subdued than just a minute ago.

Jack paused. "I don't know Tony. I fucking don't know. I was so close…I needed just a little more time."

Maria knew Jack enough to know that he wasn't, but the sound of his voice made her think he was about to cry in frustration.

"Then you should have contacted us," Tony retorted defensively.

"Don't you fucking think I would have if I could?" Jack hissed, barely holding his temper in check. "Don't you think I knew that Chapelle would come charging in here the second I missed a couple of check-ins?"

"Then why didn't you?" Tony asked. "Jack, why didn't you call in?"

There was quiet. Neither man spoke. Maria knew she shouldn't be eavesdropping, but couldn't stop herself. Once back at CTU, she was likely to be shipped back to San Diego as the investigation went on in LA. She wanted to know the details—and it was now or never.

"Jack," Tony began. Maria could hear the concern for his friend in his voice. Tony was a good guy. She was glad it was him she'd had to spend this time with. "Where were you…what was going on?"

Maria heard the chair creak once more and knew it was Jack who had just risen out of it.

"Not now Tony," Jack said softly.

"Okay, Jack, but when?" Tony paused, but his question had been rhetorical. He continued, knowing Jack wasn't going to talk about whatever it was that had happened but trying anyway.

"Jack, I don't know what the fuck went on down here…but it must have been hell. I heard the stories in the villages…what Ramon does. I know he tested you. I know you had to do what he asked."

"What the hell is your point, Tony?" Jack cut him off, clearly wanting to end this line of conversation. "We have work to do."

"My point is, Jack," Tony continued undeterred by Jack's attempted bullying, "that something is wrong. From the minute I first saw you, Jack, there was something." Tony left it open for Jack to fill in what was different, what had happened…or had been done…to him. But, of course, Jack didn't. So she heard Tony's voice again.

"Jack, you're my friend. I want to help you. If you can't put it in the reports, I'll listen. Whatever you tell me stays between us. I'd like you to talk to me. No one who hasn't been down here, no one who hasn't seen what Ramon Salazar can do, could understand. I've seen it Jack."

After another pause that made his words sound like the lie they were, Jack responded. "Nothing happened, Tony. I'm just tired. That's all."

"Alright, Jack, you're fine." Tony's voice was resigned to Jack's denial.

The wounds were still too fresh to talk about. Jack appreciated what Tony was saying. He appreciated that Tony had some understanding of Ramon. But whatever Tony knew wasn't a fraction of the truth. No one could know how deep Ramon's depravity went and how far Jack himself had dived down with him. No one, including Tony, would ever know.

They both looked uncomfortably at Lopez as she came back from a break. Jack and Tony in unison returned to what they'd been doing before, both now distracted by what had been said and what had not been.

He stopped sorting through the pile of documents and stared down at his shirt sleeve where the tattoo throbbed underneath. She knew. The Lady knew what he'd done, let Ramon do…and she'd never let him forget.

The sheet of paper he'd picked up shook in his tremulous hand. He'd put it off all day. He hadn't fixed since just after midnight. He'd seen the woman, Lopez, looking at him. Hopefully she thought he just had a Mexican bug. He wished that's all it was. If he started vomiting, even Tony would see he was more than just tired.

"Tony," Jack said, "can you spare me a few minutes…I'd like to go get my personal things together." He purposely avoided saying "I have to pack." Those words gave him images of a hotel room and a vacation. This had not been a vacation.

"Sure, Jack," Tony said. "I'm sorry, I should have thought you'd need some time." Christ, the guy had been here for six months. Of course he would need to do more than hop into a jeep and drive off the ranch. Tony's thoughts went back to the woman, Claudia, and what had happened between Jack and her earlier. From what Tony had seen, a few minutes was not going to be enough.

"Thanks," Jack mumbled on his way out. Out on the porch he took a deep gulp of the evening air and tried to relax. Without thinking, he rubbed again at his aching forehead thinking forward to a fix and getting out of here. He wasn't deluding himself that things would be much better once he returned to LA. Too much of Mexico was coming with him…not the least of which was Ramon Salazar himself.

"Hey, Jack."

The voice was both welcome and not. Chase was a good kid, and seeing familiar faces, speaking English, it all felt good—at least comparatively. But right now, Jack didn't want to talk.

He was tired of looking into all their concerned and earnest faces and pretending he wasn't exhausted, frustrated, and in withdrawal. And pretending that Ramon was just another Federal prisoner now…not a controlling and sick bastard who'd raped him last night. Pretending that he himself wasn't a man who'd let himself be sucked totally and completely into Ramon's world to the point where he'd allowed it to happen.

These people, supposedly his friends and colleagues, thought they were one cohesive unit working for the same cause. But he wasn't like them anymore. He was in limbo between the two worlds, theirs and Ramon's. He felt utterly alone. And he wanted to be left alone to lick his wounds and try to figure a way back to normalcy, away from Oscar, and Claudia, and the accusing faces of all those men sitting cuffed in the courtyard who had trusted him.

But Jack stopped and waited for Chase to catch up. It was what he had to do to stay in the happy family.

"Yeah, Chase?" The effort to feign concern and interest was seriously beginning to weigh him down.

He saw Chase pause to study him and was relieved when he didn't ask. Jack didn't think he could say the word 'fine' even once more.

"I'm trying to put out fires with the local officials."

Jack said nothing. He stuck his hands in his pockets to hide the shaking. He could do nothing to hide the sweat that beaded on his forehead and dampened his shirt even in the cool evening air.

"Anyway," Chase continued when Jack remained quiet. "They're not going to hold on to Salazar's men very long."

Jack wanted to laugh. He could have told Chase that this morning and saved him a lot of work. "I'm not surprised. Even under arrest in the States, they're scared of him. And there's still Hector to worry about," he offered flatly. "Give me a few minutes. I'll get you a list of a few names…the ones who are dangerous. The rest…" He paused, thinking of Pablo, and some of the others, good men in the wrong place. At least he could help them out after betraying them. "The rest aren't a threat. In fact, most of them will be glad to get out of here alive. They won't be back."

Chase nodded his head. He could bargain the safe ones to keep the dangerous ones locked up. "Thanks, Jack that would help." There was an awkward silence. "Is he really that bad?" Chase asked too innocently.

Jack said nothing for a second, planning to say nothing, miffed at Chase for being so fucking ignorant. Then, as he turned towards his quarters he heard himself say aloud, "He's worse."

In the few seconds it took to reach his room, his stomach couldn't take anymore. He ran to the bathroom and vomited in the toilet. He shucked his shirt off and threw it on the floor. As he washed up in the sink, he avoided looking in the mirror. He didn't want to see himself. He toweled off and reached for his kit, Ramon's gift, unhidden next to his razor and toothbrush. In this world, this was the only thing he didn't have to hide.

That would change soon. He knew he wasn't going to quit today, or tomorrow, or even in any future that included Ramon. He'd quit when this was truly and finally over. Until then, he was too weak to survive without the crutch. He'd gone through withdrawal twice now, both times had been hell. Trying a third time was unfathomable. So, this kit and this problem would be hidden from now on.

He sat down on the bed and zipped open the fine leather pouch. The five vials held snuggly in five small recesses were all full. Plenty of shit to be had when you had Ramon Salazar as a friend. He envisioned a future of having to make scores on the streets of LA. His stomach churned at the thought. But that didn't stop him from filling a syringe. He only had enough control to stop the plunger from going all the way down. He'd automatically filled the syringe with his usual dose—enough to knock him out and let him sleep.

Images of Chase or Tony finding him passed out on his bed, high as a kite made him laugh aloud. Then he thought about the possible benefits. There'd be no more Ramon to debrief and bargain with. They'd throw his ass in detox and take the decision to quit away from him. No more dope.

And no more job. No more self respect. And possibly no conviction. Testimony from a known junkie just might not fly…at least not enough to convict Ramon Salazar. Ramon's high priced lawyers would see to that. And, Jack thought to his horror, they might just go as far as to trot out the story of what had happened last night. _Oh, God._

Jack injected enough to take away the withdrawal but allow him to function. Still the rush was good; good enough to let his body flop bonelessly back on to his bed and make him groan with relief.

The relief was short lived. He was only able to revel in the high for a minute or so before he had to fight through the pleasant fog, as a knock on the door forced him reluctantly back to the real world. Why the fuck couldn't they leave him alone? He scrambled to find all his stuff and throw it back into the black leather pouch. The knock came again. He shoved the kit under the bed and went to the door.

Maria knocked then glanced around nervously on the small porch. This was a job she'd preferred Tony do himself. In all honesty, Bauer was more intimidating than she'd like to admit. His nervous anxiety, his simmering anger, and those hard blue eyes had been working on her all day. She'd only admitted it to herself after eavesdropping on their argument.

Bauer had survived Ramon Salazar. He'd matched him—and actually beat him. At first she'd been impressed, now that she's had time to think about what that had taken, she was still impressed but a little leery of him as well. What kind of man did it take to do that?

If Tony needed the key to the damn filing cabinet, he should have not let Jack walk away with it…or at least waited until he came back. She knocked again too soon, wanting to get this over with.

When he came to the door he was shirtless. And he wasn't smiling.

"I'm….I'm sorry to bother you," Maria stammered like a school girl in front of the half naked agent. _Oh, fuck this, he's not going to kill you. _ After all she'd been through on this mission, the risks she'd taken, she was furious with herself for being intimidated by the man in front of her.

"What is it?" he asked flatly.

"Tony needs the key." She paused when he looked confused. "To the filing cabinet. He said you had it. We're almost done and he's in a hurry. He didn't want to wait," she went on, feeling a need to explain.

He was already fumbling in the pockets of his faded jeans before she shut up. She couldn't help but watch his sinewy muscles move under too little body fat and his well tanned skin. He seemed oblivious to the fading but still ugly bruises that drew her eye. What the hell caused those? Then she remembered Oscar—not only his horrible death, but his stories about Ramon and punishment. And Jack's refusal to tell Tony anything about the last two weeks was fresh in her mind. She suppressed a shiver.

"Damn," Jack mumbled to himself, turning away from her and the gaping door. "I'll be right back."

Two things struck her as he walked away. First, the odd tattoo on his left forearm and, second, the unmistakable fading lash marks on his back she saw before he disappeared into the bathroom. He was back before she could process them.

"Here," he said, thrusting the key at her.

Maria's eye scanned the tattoo, her curiosity winning out and forcing her eyes to take one more quick look. That's when the small smear of blood over the vein on his arm, just above the ink, caught her eye. It wasn't much, and few would even notice. But years on the narcotics squad of the San Diego police department had trained her to notice.

It all made sense. She just couldn't believe it.

"Thanks," she said and turned to flee, already trying to manage what she should do with this unwanted information.

"Wait a second," he said to her already turned back. She was sure he'd seen where her eye had gone. Now she felt like she'd been out and out staring at that large vein on his arm, as if there was a large red arrow pointing to the needle mark that said 'look here'. He had to have noticed. "Can you give something to Chase for me?"

When she turned back, she couldn't read his face. He had the same hard stare he'd had all day…except, now that she knew, she noticed the subtle change in his eyes from the drug.

"Sure," she lied, wanted nothing more than to escape those eyes.

"Hold on a second."

The way he paused, the way he scanned her told her immediately that he knew that she knew. Of course he would notice. Even high, Jack Bauer wouldn't miss how she had reacted and tried to cover it. She waited for him to say something. He didn't.

For a second time, she stood at the door as he walked away. She watched as he took a moment and grabbed a clean shirt out of a drawer and pulled it over his head. She couldn't help but note the crisp white tee shirt had long sleeves. Then he walked over to a small desk. Without sitting, he wrote for several seconds on a notepad and returned to her.

"Chase asked for these," he said simply, handing her the note with four names. His hands weren't shaking anymore, like they had been in the study, when she'd thought he'd been ill.

Okay," she said, taking the small piece of paper from him. He wasn't going to say anything. Despite knowing she could ruin him with what she knew, he was going to let her walk away without a word. He was either very brave and sure of himself, or a total fool.

The door closed before she had even turned around. Maria walked down the steps and paused, taking a deep breath. _Oh fuck_. She cursed Tony once again for sending her on this errand. When she looked up, she saw Claudia looking down at her from a second floor balcony across the length of the house. Their eyes met briefly before the other woman disappeared back into the house.

The weight of this place fell on her at that moment. The dark eyed woman and her stare. The chiseled faces of the men in the courtyard. She remembered Salazar's arrogant smirk as he was arrested and cuffed. And the hollow looks of the villagers. Then it occurred to her that maybe, after all this, living with it for half a year…that maybe Jack Bauer was just too tired to care if some junior agent knew he was an addict. After surviving all this, how could Maria Lopez possibly do him any more harm?

Claudia had just gotten Sergio to fall asleep in her bed. His world had been turned upside down once again. Too soon after he'd come to terms with the death of their mother. He'd been crying most of the evening after watching the unmarked truck drive away with his father. He was exhausted. For that matter, so was Claudia. But she wouldn't sleep until these people had left the ranch…until Jack had left the ranch.

She had only been on the balcony a few minutes before she'd seen Jack come out of the house and walk to his room. She'd stood and fought an initial urge to go to him. He'd be packing to leave. And he'd probably fix. Fucking Ramon, what he'd done. She hoped he rotted in an American prison forever.

Several minutes later, the woman agent had crossed to Jack's door and knocked. When Jack had appeared at the door, Claudia's heart had throbbed. Two weeks ago, all she had thought of was escaping this place with him. Now she had rejected him.

Had her words been true? Did she really not know him? His last name had changed. That he was an undercover Federale…didn't that simply explain all the things about him she had loved but not understood? None of this really changed him.

But it frightened her. The world he would take her to was more foreign, frightening, and uncertain than even remaining here with Hector. Until he was gone, and the choice to flee was no longer an option, not until then could she rest. She knew she couldn't go to him.

Claudia retreated into the shadow of the house so Jack wouldn't see her as she watched. Jack disappeared and when he returned he was dressed. When the woman walked away with whatever he had handed her, Claudia stepped to the railing, somehow feeling possessive, wanting the American agent to see that she had been watching.

When the woman had looked up, her face had been strange. She'd seen that look on her little brother's face when she'd caught him at something he shouldn't be doing…which happened too often. She knew the look. What had the woman seen?

In a flash, Claudia found herself going downstairs. She intercepted the other woman on the porch. Her presence startled the agent.

"Claudia," the woman greeted simply.

Claudia didn't know what she intended to say. She didn't even understand why she was on this porch talking to this woman, except that through her, she had a connection to Jack without the danger of being with him.

"Is he okay?" she asked.

At the stupid question, the agent looked at her quizzically.

"Excuse me?" the agent asked.

"Jack…he hasn't been well…" Claudia stammered, wishing she'd stayed upstairs. Agent Lopez was trying to read her.

"He's been ill?"

Claudia paused, taking her turn to do the reading. Her initial impression told her she was correct. Somehow Jack had given something away.

"What did you see?" she asked straight out, now knowing why she was down here. She was protecting Jack from what Ramon had done to him.

"What do you mean?" the agent asked unconvincingly. Instantly, Claudia knew she'd been right. Instead of answering she stared, waiting for Agent Lopez to talk.

"I saw enough," Lopez finally answered, looking down at the floor, angry at herself for being, in her surprise at the discovery, so transparent.

"What are you going to do?" Claudia asked, not knowing what she could possibly say or do to change anything the American had planned.

"I don't know."

That wasn't good enough. "Don't judge him," Claudia demanded simply, deciding that maybe explaining the truth was the best way.

Lopez looked disgusted. "Don't judge him?" she asked incredulous. "He's a junkie. A high ranking federal agent who's addicted to heroin. It's impossible _not_ to judge him."

The two women stared at each other before Maria continued. "And why do you care? Didn't he…" The agent stopped.

Claudia interrupted to show she knew very well what Jack had done. "…deceive me. Lie to me. Tear apart my home."

"…hurt you?" Maria finished the sentence she had begun, not as an agent, but as a woman who'd seen what had happened between Jack and Claudia this morning.

Claudia's face burned at the intrusion, at her tears from this morning being thrown back in her face by a stranger. But she was the one who had started this. "Jack was the best thing I've had in my life for a long time," she whispered. I can't hate him for not being like the men he worked for. I won't."

She continued, afraid if she stopped she'd break down. She wouldn't cry in front of this woman who did a man's job. "And he never hurt me. He never would. He was the one who was hurt. Ramon Salazar…" she stopped considering her words carefully. Upstairs, in her room, she'd been thinking. Jack's people could never know the things he'd done for Ramon. In fact, she herself was having trouble understanding how he'd done them.

"What?" Lopez asked impatiently. "Ramon what?"

"Ramon did this to him." Lopez didn't have to know Jack had come here already addicted. But he'd quit. He'd been free until Ramon had put him under again.

"By what, injuring him? He was in so much pain he needed the heroin?" Lopez surmised unsympathetically.

"No," Claudia defended. "Ramon did injure him, but he would never have turned to the drug—not just because of pain."

"Then how? Ramon tied him down and injected the drug himself?" she asked sarcastically, growing annoyed that Claudia was trying to defend Jack's habit.

Claudia paused, still unsure that even knowing the truth, this woman wasn't going to ruin Jack anyway. She obviously didn't know Jack well, or she never would have assumed what she just had about needing the drug for the pain.

"Yes."

"Pardon me?" asked a now confused Maria.

"Yes…to your question."

"To my question…" Maria Lopez stopped to remember what her last question had been. _Ramon tied him down and injected the drug himself? That question?_

Claudia saw Maria's eyes grow wide as it dawned on her what Claudia was telling her. _Ramon had forced Jack Bauer to become an addict. _

Maria Lopez didn't want to believe this woman…that Ramon Salazar would do that. Why would he do that? But the answer came to her immediately. _Power_. He would have power over a weakened man.

And why would she lie? If Jack was embedded and alone down here, isolated as he was, could he have done anything to stop it? He'd been missing for two weeks. She remembered him dodging Tony's direct question about his disappearance in the office a little while ago. Was that where he had been?

"Yes," Claudia repeated once more softly, as if reading her mind and to dispel any lingering doubt. But her eyes were elsewhere.

She turned to look at what Claudia was seeing. Behind her, forty meters away, Jack was standing and staring at them. No, not at them…he was staring at Claudia. If there had been any doubt about what their relationship had been, there was none now. The pain was palpable.

Maria turned back to Claudia. "I understand," she said simply. She wondered if Claudia had even heard her as she turned and walked away. When she glanced where he'd been, Jack was already gone.

Behind her she swore she heard a feminine voice say "Tell him I'm sorry."

Maria would never tell Jack Bauer that his lover had asked her to apologize to him in her stead. But neither would she tell Jack's secret. He had friends in Chase and Tony. They would see eventually. It wasn't her place to bring Jack Bauer down. Seeing all this, the Salazars, the woman, his survival, she had to wonder if that was even possible.

Chapter 18

Jack was exhausted and barely holding his emotions in check. Six months had passed, but it felt like so much longer. He'd been with Claudia three of those months, but he felt so much closer than that. Thoughts of his last glimpse of her in the courtyard with the setting sun ran through his mind, quiet and peaceful, despite the real noise from the landing chopper fifty meters away.

The wind from the blades whipped through his hair as he ducked and ran to the helicopter. Appropriately, he was the last one on. Tony and Chase had gone earlier with the documents and evidence. This last flight held him and three other agents. One was Maria Lopez.

His duffle landed at her feet as he swung it onto the floor of the large transport. She said nothing as she pulled the heavy bag away from the door so he could climb in after it. In fact, she'd said nothing since she'd been to his room. He didn't need the extra weight her tension was causing and looked away.

Maria looked down at his bag at her feet. The words were on the tip of her tongue. _The woman, Claudia…she said she's sorry. And Jack…Agent Bauer…I'm not going to report what I saw. _ But Jack Bauer looked away as soon as he boarded. When he did, Maria found she couldn't take her eyes off him, lost in his own thoughts, staring out the open door of the transport, the wind ruffling his hair, and the shadows from the cabin lights highlighting the contours of his face.

In the dark, she couldn't see the dark circles under his eyes that were billboards for how tired he was. His hands on his lap, he let his head fall back, looking so much younger when his eyes closed and the rest of the lines creasing his face eased away. Again she was struck by the difference between the face in front of her and the picture on his ID card. Both were handsome, but this face, even in repose, was thin and tough and held a world weariness not present in the early photo.

Maria wondered at the odd happenstances of the day that had put her in place to see too much of Jack's private hell in this place. Why not his friends, the people who knew him and might be able to help, why her? She wanted to give all she knew back.

He must have felt her watching and opened his eyes and looked right at her. There was no accusation or plea for clemency in his face, despite how vulnerable he appeared for one fleeting second. And to her great surprise, for another fleeting second, he smiled at her. The smile hardly, if at all, reached his mouth. It was his eyes. And they seemed to be absolving her for whatever she chose to do. At least that's how she chose to interpret the look. She smiled back, pleased that when he looked away again, he seemed just a tad more at peace.

The helicopter took off and Jack stared at the receding lights of the ranch until they were no longer visible, swallowed by the dark of the vast barren dessert. He thought about Maria Lopez's brief smile. Kindness, assurance, honesty. In that very short moment, she reminded Jack of what the last six months had not been and that what he was going back to was so much better. And he'd survived to do it. Maybe not as well as he would have liked and not without baggage, but he'd made it.

Whatever she did with what she knew was her decision. He didn't feel she held his fate in her hands. If anything, he'd slipped up, almost asking for her to make the decision for him. If anything, he regretted he'd burdened her with that. The only thing he wanted to know of Maria Lopez is what Claudia had said to her. But he wouldn't ask and she wasn't saying.

He retreated into himself, the finality of leaving really setting in. The time here was over. The raid had been a mistake, but was done was done. He sagged and let his eyes close again and his head fall back against the high seat back once more. The helicopter crossed over the Rio Grande into the United States. Jack fell asleep. 


	10. Epilogue

Thank you to all of you who have stuck with this long story to the end. Like I've said before, there's something about Jack and Ramon that intrigues me and I had a blast writing this. Hopefully you did reading it.

If you like my fiction, please check out my site 24nmore(dot)com. **We have about ten authors and hundreds of stories that are screened for quality. ** So you don't have to worry whether the story is well written. We also have many different pairings, AU, canon, and all levels from G to very mature. There's something for everyone. If you are interested in posting your own fiction on the site contact me or any other admin...OR...register and publish on our forum. That's a place for new authors to show their stuff.

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In Mexico Epilogue

Epilogue

The door to the interrogation room opened. Was it relief or disappointment he felt when the DEA agent entered followed by his lawyer? It was the same every time he'd sat here, waiting to see who wanted a piece of him this time. Almost four weeks had passed. He knew, for the government's case, Jack would have to show up sooner or later. It appeared Jack wanted it to be later.

Despite Jack's glaring absence, Ramon harbored no disillusions that Jack wasn't working behind the scenes, controlling his interrogations…and probably his entire imprisonment. On the ranch, he'd been impressed with Jack, but Ramon hadn't even begun to fathom the depth to which he'd been manipulated until days had passed after his arrest.

It had taken time, to adjust to the surreal induction into the confinement and routines of the Federal prison, for him to settle enough to contemplate what had happened. He'd been totally and completely had. That Jack had been able to pull off a six month charade, had taken everything he dished out, was more than amazing. Ramon still had difficulty finding the right words to describe what Jack had done.

At first, he'd found amusement in the situation…how completely he'd been snowed. But as the days passed and he missed his life, food, woman, freedom…and power…he grew angry. He wanted to kill Jack.

Ramon wondered if during those days he'd held Jack in that bedroom…when he beat him or made him hurt…if, in his head, Jack had been imagining the day the tables would turn. But he knew. He knew that to survive what had been done to him, Jack would picture the day he would arrest Ramon and have his ultimate revenge.

Ramon knew because that's what he would have done. But he suspected he would never have had the discipline to stick with it as long as that son of a bitch had. Hell, he could have taken the pain…but the humiliation and subservience…never. If he were in Jack's place, Ramon would have lashed out and killed anyone who did that to him. And maybe that's exactly why Jack had won. Ultimately, it had been Jack in control all along. Jack simply had more control than Ramon.

What a shame, Ramon thought not for the first time, that Jack had devoted all that talent to law enforcement. What a waste.

His lawyer was speaking to him. Ramon turned his attention to him only when he pushed a pile of papers over the worn grey laminate of the table towards him. They droned on, the lawyer and the drug agent. Ramon tried to pay attention, but he just didn't care. The drugs were nothing. They'd tried to get him on these charges before. Yes, they had more this time thanks to Jack, but he'd get off. It was the terrorist connections that might bring him down. He'd pay attention when that action began. When Jack showed up.

They finished and left, leaving the papers on the table for him to read before he was taken back to his cell…back to a night of watching the paint crack and wishing for a woman. He was on the third page when the door reopened. Ramon didn't bother to look up.

"I'm not done yet," he said gruffly. "All this legal bullshit is just too fascinating. I don't want to read too quickly and miss something."

"Ramon."

The voice was unmistakable. Ramon stopped but didn't look up, unsure of how he wanted to act. He almost smiled. Ramon had never been unsure of much in his life. Jack Bauer had changed that as well.

When he finally looked, Jack was standing just inside the closed door. His dark grey suit was impeccably tailored. He wore a pale blue tie on a crisp white shirt. His hair was cut and trimmed perfectly as he stood there, his hands relaxed at his sides, his eyes focusing hard in a serious and slight squint at Ramon.

If Ramon had planned to try to belittle Jack, to intimidate him, it would have failed. He saw that immediately. Even knowing the truth, for the month, his image of Jack was of the man he'd seen on an almost daily basis. Often dirty and sweaty, usually dressed in work shirts and boots. This was not Jack Briggs that stood in front of him. Except for that one little tic that both Jacks carried, Ramon noted. Jack's right hand slowly opened and closed in the gesture he'd come to know as an expression of tension.

"Agent Bauer," Ramon greeted in the same tone. Under the well put together exterior, the man he'd known was there. The same man he'd abused and intimidated…and worked with and respected. Maybe Jack had never felt it, but Ramon had felt close to Jack at times. He'd foreseen a future with Jack eventually seeing it too as his initiations and tests receded into the past…as they became partners.

He saw Jack's eyes dart up at the security camera on the ceiling and knew they mutually shared a desire that they could meet in private.

"Are they listening?" Ramon asked.

"No," Jack said, approaching the table. "I made sure if it." He put one hand in his pocket. "How are you, Ramon?"

"Just great, Jack," he smiled ironically, "couldn't be better."

"Please sit down," Ramon said, gesturing to the prison chair, the vinyl seat ripped and fraying in more than one spot. "I'm sorry I can't offer you a drink."

Ramon had almost said _I'm sorry I can't get Claudia to get you a drink_, but had realized that teasing Jack might not be in his best interest. He was glad he hadn't when Jack didn't move and his face remained serious. It struck him now, the disparity. Ramon might act it, but he wasn't in charge anymore.

"CTU has completed the investigation. We'll be bringing charges on Monday." Jack walked away from the table to stand in front of the blank side of the two way mirror. He stared off into nothingness as he spoke. He didn't know how he'd feel seeing Ramon again. That was one of the reasons he'd waited—and to get the case together and let Ramon sweat a little.

But when he had walked into the room, time had vanished. Those last few weeks, and that last night on the ranch, were back the instant he had seen Ramon. But the grey room and Ramon's prison clothes made the difference. He could knock on the door and walk out. Ramon could not. Jack thought it was unfortunate that he had to force himself to remember that as Ramon's presence briefly threatened to smother him. He turned and went to the empty chair, but stood behind it instead of sitting down.

"You came here to tell me that personally, Jack?"

"Yes, Ramon, I did," he said evenly, not letting Ramon's cocky tone bait him. He would be seeing a lot of Ramon in the forthcoming weeks. He had wanted this first meeting to happen alone so he could feel Ramon…and himself…out.

A lot had happened in Mexico. If Ramon's tongue was loose, Jack knew he could handle the repercussions. It wouldn't be pleasant, but he could control and spin any investigations…inquiries into his conduct. He wanted an inkling of what to expect. And he wanted this nervous tension that filled the room out of the way before the real work began.

Choosing today to come here had been random, the charges just an excuse. He had needed this monkey off his back. As he stood there, he began to realize that seeing Ramon wouldn't change anything at all. For the most part, numbness still enveloped him.

The hard, closed exterior…the persona that had been Jack Briggs in fact…was what his colleagues at CTU saw on a daily basis. It had been the face he'd presented to Kate when he'd shown back up to claim his belongings and clear out from her house. It had been the exterior that deflected her emotion and protected him from breaking down when she had.

Work kept him around people all day, but the armor kept him alone, as he still wanted to be, too often still feeling just as foreign at 'home' as he had in Mexico.

They, Tony and Kate especially, didn't try to hide their concern for him. But he dismissed it. He was…or would be…okay. He tried, and there were moments when he was okay, until he was home, not working. Until he had time to think and the images from Mexico ran rampant in his mind. The images and memories making him feel foreign even in his own skin.

Frightened faces loomed in his memory. Those people had been frightened of _him_. He'd let himself become a monster for Ramon. The reasons he'd done it had faded. Only the acts themselves remained vivid, and without the justifications he'd placated himself with in Mexico, the acts were all that much more horrific.

Jack's evenings ended early. Each night he'd drink and tell himself he could make it. But each night he gave in to the memories without much of a fight, almost resigned to accepting the animal within when he pulled out the kit and waited for the high. But the heroin now came with its own pair of memories, imprinted on him on that last night and day on the ranch.

When he saw his hand on the syringe, it was Ramon's hand he felt. Some nights it was just a touch on his arm. But other nights it was his entire body on his, his chest bearing down hard, smothering him with his weight and with guilt.

Then Oscar would come. His young face would appear briefly, expressionless. His lips wouldn't move, but still Jack could hear his voice clearly. _You were willing to kill me to save yourself._ Then he was gone. Jack still hadn't come to terms with Oscar. The heroin would close down his brain before he had time to resolve to wrestle with his conscience.

So, now, standing in front of Ramon, he didn't really care what happened to him personally, as long as the case went smoothly.

"How've you been, Jack?" Ramon asked casually. Jack looked damn good. He'd put some weight back on and that made him look younger. Ramon paused to consider that he really didn't even know how old Jack was. All that background data he'd paid to have gathered and he'd studied intently…all that would have been fake.

But maybe not all, he reconsidered. The night that he'd drugged him…there'd been some truth in those words, those stories Jack had told. There'd been pain. And the history that had caused that pain had endowed whoever Jack Bauer was with the ability to play Jack Briggs.

Jack said nothing. Ramon couldn't read what he was feeling. He wasn't used to having his questions ignored and Jack knew it…was playing it. There'd been enough small talk. Jack and he had never bull shitted each other. Why should they start now?

"I always thought you were good, Jack…but I didn't know how good, did I?" Ramon sat straighter in his chair and threw the papers he was still holding onto the table. "Some of the things you did for me…" He shook his head and let his voice trail off. "Do your people know?"

"Not unless you tell them," Jack finally spoke. "And as far as I know, you didn't keep written documentation. So…if that's a threat…you can talk all you want." Jack was calm as he expressed himself. After all the lying, telling the truth was refreshingly easy. He sat down. If they did punish him, he deserved it anyway.

"Really, Jack?" Ramon said, sensing a bluff. "What of your reputation…your standing among your peers? What you did for me and, hell, what I did to you? Really…you wouldn't mind if I announced it to the DEA…or the Justice Department? You must be very, very good."

"I wasn't ignorant of what I was doing, Ramon. I did it knowing what the consequences could be. And I am willing to deal with them. Can you say the same?"

"Very good, Jack, turn this back to me." Ramon leaned his elbows on the table, which naturally brought him closer to Jack sitting across from him. "You think I have much more to atone for than you do…is that it?"

Jack said nothing.

"Of course you do," Ramon answered for him. "You think I have my whole life to pay penance for." He smiled smugly. "But you are wrong. I play a role. If I did not do it…someone else would fill the void. It is simply the nature of things in my world. But I am true to my nature. I know what I am." He paused. "Can you say the same, Agent Bauer? Do you even know your nature…what you are?"

Jack refused to debate good and evil with Ramon Salazar...especially as it pertained to him personally. With Ramon, everything was black and white. It was the grey engulfing Jack that was blocking his view of exactly what he was. But Ramon was damn perceptive, driving straight to the core of Jack's personal hell since he'd been back.

"What I am, Ramon, is the man that will bring you down. We aren't friends. We aren't partners. What you think I am or am not does not matter to me. You were a mission." Jack paused and picked up the DEA paperwork as illustration. "Now you are a case." He threw the papers back down to the table with a 'thwack' drawing Ramon's eyes down with them.

"Okay, Jack. Fair enough," Ramon conceded, feeling rebuffed and hiding it. Jack had been his challenge. And while he knew Jack was lying, downplaying the significance of what had happened to and between them the last six months, he couldn't help but feel slighted that Jack was implying the personal nature of their relationship had been one sided. Yes, Ramon had been cruel to him, he knew that. But with Jack, it had always been personal.

Jack stood.

Ramon didn't want Jack to go. He had thrived on the challenge of Jack on the ranch. Here, in this prison, the boredom and stupidity was oppressive. He wanted Jack. And he wanted to hurt Jack.

"You're still using, I assume?"

Jack turned to leave.

"You really don't care…if I tell them…about everything? And I mean everything, Jack."

Ramon heard a short laugh. When Jack turned back, he was still smiling…but it was a sad smile.

"No, Ramon…I really don't. I'm numb Ramon." He paused and shoved his hands into his pockets. "I guess I have you to thank for that. You taught me how to survive. What could they possibly do to me?" _That could be worse than you have already done…or that I don't deserve. _He finished the thought in his head.

Ramon saw the sadness in Jack's eyes and knew he wasn't bluffing.

Jack continued when Ramon didn't respond.

"Besides, Ramon, you and I both know that destroying me personally and professionally isn't your style. Is it? That's too petty and trifling for you."

He walked closer, remembering how, on the ranch, he'd never chance his life closing on Ramon if either of them were angry. This wasn't that fucking ranch. When Ramon stood, Jack was only worried the guards would burst in at a perceived threat to him. He almost wanted Ramon to hit him, to at least feel something, at least pain to go with the guilt. Maybe Jack wanted a return to their natural order. It had been easier when he could blame Ramon.

They were inches apart. Jack's voice was soft. "You and I both know you would only be satisfied with killing me…slowly and painfully." They stared at each other for a very long moment, both silently acknowledging the truth of that statement, Jack daring Ramon to lash out.

"That's how you work, Ramon," Jack finally said. "My job is to make sure you never have a chance to kill anyone again. Now you know how I work."

Ramon smirked. "Yes, Jack. Now I know exactly how you work."

"See you Monday, Ramon. Have a good weekend." He couldn't help the jab.

If Ramon responded as he strode out the door, Jack didn't hear him. He heard the gates closing behind him, their harsh metallic noise separating him physically from Ramon. He turned and looked behind him through all the bars. He remembered standing pressed up against Ramon in the courtyard that day and how familiar he'd felt…and how that had revolted him.

Ramon, just now, so close, hadn't felt familiar, he hadn't even smelled familiar. He'd smelled of cheap prison soap and starch.

Jack was surprised.

There was distance between them now…and Jack sensed, for the first time since he'd been home, that the separation wasn't merely physical. He didn't feel engulfed by Ramon's presence.

"Agent Bauer," the guard said behind him. Jack startled a little at the voice and turned to accept his gun being handed to him.

"Thank you," he said politely, turning back in the direction from which he'd come to catch a very brief glimpse of a cuffed and shackled Ramon Salazar being led away between two guards.

He wasn't Ramon. He wasn't Ramon's.

Chase met him outside the high security entrance.

"How'd it go?" Chase asked when Jack didn't say anything. They got in the car. Chase pulled out of the complex and, still, Jack was quiet. Chase was used to this. Jack had been like this since he'd been back. Everyone at CTU had seen the difference in him. And, secretly, everyone was waiting for him to blow, to release whatever was pent up inside.

"I'm hungry," Jack said out of the blue. He looked at his watch. "What do you say to a beer and some dinner?"

Chase, in the driver's seat, looked at Jack like he was some sort of alien presence.

Jack was staring out the window. He didn't see Chase's initial look of surprise, and he didn't see the wide smile that followed.

"That'd be great. I'm a little hungry too," Chase said evenly, trying to keep the surprised relief from his voice.

Chase just caught a glimpse of Jack's slight smile before he turned his attention back to the road.

"Good," Jack concluded, smiling wider to himself after Chase looked away.

Thanks for reading!


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